


Rehabilitation

by KierWrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Attempted Sexual Assault, Avengers Family, BAMF Phil Coulson, BAMF Women, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Revenge, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 04:56:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14686947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KierWrites/pseuds/KierWrites
Summary: INCOMPLETE/DISCONTINUEDIn which a kidnapped doctor strikes an unlikely and hesitant friendship with a tortured assassin.Or badass female surgeon shoots her rapist, Natasha wants to go on a road trip, Steve is vengeful and naive, Bucky can’t sleep, and Tony adopts everyone. Oh, and Phil’s alive.





	1. black out

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nearly All That is Undetected](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10629231) by [NyxEtoile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NyxEtoile/pseuds/NyxEtoile). 



> Alright, so this is my first fanfic in a series of interconnected works called ‘Heroes Don’t Bleed’. It’s a Bucky/OFC fic, but no Mary Sues here. Please note that this is a first draft and hasn't been beta'd yet! Any mistakes are mine.

* * *

_Washington_   _DC, January 2013_

**WORKING ON A FRIDAY** was the best feeling Valerie ever had. She had just finished cleaning up the OR after particularly nasty operation involving brain tumor and a malfunctioning phone that kept playing Justin Bieber, and was more than happy to end her shift and head home. 

It was quite a chilly afternoon, leaving Valerie shivering as she pulled her scarf closer to cover her sensitive nose, as she strolled down the alleyway dimly lit by the yellow glow of streetlights.

Suddenly, she heard sounds of glass shattering beside her. Naturally, she jumped in surprise, yanking her headphones off in one swift motion as she whirled around to find the source of those sounds. Sights of dull grey houses greeted her, with no signs of broken windows.

The streets when eerily quiet again, but Valerie's heart was still thumping anxiously. She supposed it was a thief, but burglary was uncommon around here. The residents were too rich and hired too many guards and guard dogs, deterring many would-be thieves from stealing in one of the richest neighborhoods in Washington DC. The last time she recalled someone being robbed was when Mrs. Hudson, a mean lady with enough jewelry to make the Sun jealous of her shininess, got mugged in this very same alleyway, but the mugger only got a snatch of her necklace before she called the police and he got executed.

Yeah, it's a rough upbringing for amateur thievery.

Valerie slowly turned around, breathing very quietly, trying to see in the settling darkness.

_Thump. Thump. Thump_. There went her heart, thumping maniacally as if its beats were numbered.

Then, sudden small yet unmissable whooshing sound of an arrow-like missile slashed through the air like a sharp sword and before Valerie could react, it had impaled her back. The pain wasn't much, considering the fact that her brain was already tuning off as soon as that vile dart hit her skin. Her vision blurred, the ground beneath her growing closer and closer.

She blacked out before she hit the ground.

 

* * *

[ _Classified Location_ ] 12 hours later

 

**THE FIRST THAT REGISTERED TO HER WAS THE COLD**. 

She flinched instinctively, even though her mind was somewhere between the lines of conscious and unconscious. Her limbs moved sluggishly – so did her head – and by the time she managed to wrench her eyes open with raw visible effort, she immediately wished she hadn't. 

Bone-chilling blasts of winter winds billowed pass her, biting into her skin, drying her eyes out, and making her knees wobble slightly. 

This wasn't heating pads and hot chocolate cold. This was need-a-furnace cold. This was pure harsh wintery cold. The kind of cold that had your hair freezing and your bones shaking.

But after several minutes adjusting to the sudden change in temperature, the distraction was replaced by waves of fear crashing down upon her when Valerie realized she wasn't where she was last time. Now, instead of streets and pavements, she was in a truck, of sort, with two opposite rows of seats.

Valerie was situated the farthest away from the vehicle's doors, with armed guards on either sides. There were more sitting in front of her, all holding rifles longer than legally allowed and looking downright murderous.

Inside Valerie's head, a slamming sense of _nope nope nope_ took most of her attention, accompanied by imaginary red strobe lights blaring off. It took every will power she possessed to prevent her from crying out loud, trying to escape, or both. She at least had enough self-control to put on a passable calm and slightly terrified face to hide the hot mess that was her brain, enough to fool the guard beside her. His gaze simply passed by her without second glance.

Valerie supposed it was a good sign that the guards were underestimating her. While she continued to play the act, behind the facade her mind whirled furiously, formulating a good-enough escape plan.

She didn't know much about why she was here, or why there were guards assigned to keep watch on her – as she was the only person who wasn't dressed in tact gears with a bright red skull-tentacles logo on their shoulder. The only thing she managed to garner over the past 10 minutes was 1) she was tranquilized and brought here via this truck and 2) she was obviously important enough to be placed on such a highly-guarded transportation. 

As Valerie delved deeper into her thoughts, she tend to lose touch with the outside. So when the doors bursted open and two scary men walked in, it took a rough shove from a nearby soldier to snap her out of her trance.

She tipped her head up to meet the newcomers' eyes, and they both looked cold and soulless, just like everyone else's really. Valerie made a practically assumption that these two held a high-enough rank inside this hierarchy of some kind for the guards to salute them in perfect sync, fists in the air, vaguely reminding her of the Nazis– 

Wait. The Nazis? Then that means that. . .

No, she shook her head. No, that was just an irrantional assumption. Germany's dictatorship regime died along with Hitler in the second World War. It was over. Ended, just like it's 'beloved' leader's life.

_But, there is a rogue branch_ , whispered the nasty voice inside her head. _You know about it. Your sister do–_  

Stop. She halted the train of thoughts in its track. There was no rogue branch. No nothing. And she had cut all ties from her sister after she had joined a top-secret organization. There was no use diving deeper into the past when she had a major problem at present.

"Doctor Hill."

And that's one of them. 

A man. He was standing in front of her– no, he didn't just stood. He loomed. Eyes glowering, mouth twisted unpleasantly downward and all. 

"Do I know you?" It was instinctive of her to ask. He knew her, by a stretch. He knew her surname, and though she hadn't been exactly trying to keep a low profile, the fact that possible Nazi-related man knew her surname scared her enough.

The man gave a low chuckle. "I expect not, but rest assure, doctor. We'll soon be very well acquainted."

Her eyes trained on the man's deadly face. He sounded sultry, devious, distinctively Russian and everything else that screamed 'evil!' She hated the way he said 'doctor'. The way he stretched the 'r' on his tongue and almost purred sent shivers down her spine. It was obvious this man wasn't the shoot-first-ask-later kind of guy. More like ask-while-shooting kind.

Shifting on her seat, trying her best to keep her nervousness at bay, Valerie narrowed her eyes and tilted her chin upwards as a mean to intimidate him.

To her horror, the man just laughed soundly, eyes crinkling as if mocking her efforts. 

"Doctor, a little glare from you won't make me cower in fear. I'm made up of more than that, fortunately. Though I should warn you. "At this, his voice went from soft to steely so suddenly she had to resist shrinking away from him.

"Any attempts on escaping, even the mere thought of it, and you shall find that being a prisoner is much more pleasant than being dead," he all but snarled at her direction. The tone of his voice portrayed something that made this man someone who you didn't want to cross. 

She huffed defiantly, knowing full well that he wouldn't appreciate said gesture, but it made her feel a little bit better when she saw him frowned further.

Then, a guard caught her arm, and she was surprised to see that she wasn't in cuffs. 

Her hands were free.

Her breath hitched in her throat.

_She could be free_. 

Completely forgetting what the man had just threatened her about and the fact that her mind was screaming for her not to, she aggressively shoved a guard out of her way, sprinted towards the open door and fell face first into the snow.

Wait a minute. Snow?

The shock of temperature barely registered to her nervous system when she staggered up on foot, stumbling slightly. Then, she turned back to see if anyone had tried to pursue her, and was terrified when she saw several guards aimed at her with their rifles.

"Soldiers, tranq her!" someone ordered harshly. Sounds of guns clicking reached her. Valerie didn't think of anything else as she whirled back, the vast snowy wilderness stretched endlessly before her, and took off.

It was nowhere that she recognized. Maybe it was the Arctic, maybe Alaska. She didn't care, as long as her chance of escaping wasn't countered. 

Her feet sunk into the snow at every attempt from her to run across the blindingly white surface. It's hardened look was deceiving, and as soon as she tried sprinting on it her foot went straight to the very bottom. Now sunk waist deep in the snow, her body now shivering from the teeth-baring coldness of fresh ice, Valerie deeply regretted not thinking through about this.

She was getting nowhere while this deep in the snow. She was stuck. Then, fear gripped her as she remembered what the man had said, that he would have her dead should she tried to escape. And she did.

For one glorious moment Valerie thought she had it all in the bag, then nature just had to foil her plans. She was so concentrated on freeing her legs that she was completely oblivious to the whistling sound that tore through the air and stopped. Piercing pain on her neck. It didn't take her long to realize she'd been tranquilized _again_. 

As her eyelids dropped, a blurry image of someone moving towards her took front view. The person was heavily built, and even in her drug-induced state she could still deduce that he was, in fact, male. He walked strangely, a slight stagger on his left side as if something was weighing him down. At that point, the cold consumed her, seeping into her bones. More tired than afraid, she gave into weariness, slowly slipping off to unconsiousness. The sounds of footsteps grew louder, closer.

Valerie felt someone gripped the collar of her jacket roughly, and then the sensation of being dragged across the snow met her. The last thing she saw was eyes. Blue, pale, cold. Deadlier than a bullet, sharper than a knife. As predatory and merciless as the frost itself. Eyes crueler than winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It takes a while to unfold, but bear with me.


	2. revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are going to be under the supervision of us while working on a very special project," said Pierce. At that, she turned her gaze away from him, to look at anywhere else. She decided to focus on a spot on the wall.
> 
> "Developing the super serum."
> 
> The statement took her by surprise. She gave him a startled look. "What?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! A new chapter!

* * *

[ _Classified Location_ ] Enemy base, January 2013

**SHE SLOWLY WOKE UP TO THE SOUND OF METAL SCRAPING AGAINST METAL.**

At first, Valerie simply dismissed it as white noise, but the longer she tried to ignore it and it kept dragging on, the more she realized that it was very much real. And that was more than enough to jolt her awake immediately. She jumped forward, instinctively, as if lunging for something. Anything. Then, she realized she couldn't move. Her arms were bound, her legs tied to iron chains, her chest felt constricted. That set off all sorts of alarming feelings inside her. A mess of fear, anxiety, shock, emptiness, a collecting into a hollow pang in her chest.

She looked around, seeing no one, but the sound of metallic scraping continued to echo. She followed it to its source, where – at the door – a man stood, sharpening a hunting knife of some sort. He was tall and muscular, a bad combination when he could be the villain. To make things worse, Valerie spotted something gleaming on his left side. Something long and suspiciously human-arm-shaped.

But before she could observe him any further, calloused fingers tipped her head upward, as bright light shone directly at her eyes. At once, they were gone, replaced by a pair of eyes boring straight into her soul. It was such a sudden change that it caused Valerie to shriek aloud. She attempted to scramble away, but then remembered that oh right! She couldn't fucking move.

More reasons to think of the f-word, she supposed.

"She's conscious, sir," someone said. He must've been the one who checked her eyes, having dressed like a doctor and all.

"Ah, doctor, I was beginning to wonder if my men had accidentally killed you." A voice drifted over to her reverie. The eyes removed their gaze from her, moving aside as another person stepped into view.

It was a man. Tall, stocky, old. Classic signs of a business douchebag. Valerie had had her fair share of flirty old men trying to worm their ways into her pants. Luckily for her, her sister ensured she had plenty of self-defense classes, enough to knock a grade A pervert down on his ass. However, giving this one an assessment, Valerie knew at an instant this wasn't the type of man who'd give up if you kick him where the sun didn't shine. He'd be the type to scheme and plan for his revenge when you least expect it. He was the type most people would steer clear of.

But Valerie wasn't 'most people'.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Her bashful question didn't appear to faze him at all. The man simply chuckled half-heartedly, crinkling the wrinkles beneath his eyes.

"I thought you might recognize me through your sister," he said, waiting expectantly. Valerie just stared at him blankly and shook her head.

Heaving a sigh, he tried again. "Secretary of World Security Council? Head of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Alexander Pierce." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could even fathom what they mean to begin with.

 _Alexander Pierce_.

Pierce. The man in charge of S.H.I.E.L.D., part of the WSC, a member of the US government, was in front of her. The man who declined a Nobel Peace Prize, he who promised to the world at an international meeting with the UN panel that he – as the new Secretary – would make sure no one would disrupt peace, was in front of her. Valerie couldn't help but feel slightly elated, relieved, that he was here. Alexander Pierce could help her escape from. . . wherever this was. He could help her. But why was he here?

As if reading her thoughts, Pierce said almost immediately, "Doctor Hill, you must understand that you're brought here because of a very important reason."

Valerie stayed quiet.

Something was wrong. If Pierce, in her mind, was here to help her, then why. . . was he here? Shouldn't he be somewhere else on the other side of the planet sending a task force instead of risking his life? And even if he was, idiotically, here to aid, then why did he consider her important enough to be saved? There were to many questions whirling in Valerie's head. Too many missing puzzle pieces. Anomalies. He wouldn't risk his life. Not for her, a lowly doctor.

Then she looked at Pierce in the eye, hoping for confirmation from him. All she saw was nothing. And then, realization struck her: he orchestrated the kidnapping. Pierce wanted her here. The shocking revelation might have her screaming her head off had it not been for the severity of the situation. One wrong move and Valerie would find herself dead. So she shoved the thought of to one side and put on a calm facade she'd been carefully cultivating for the past decade.

Oblivious to the inner workings of her mind, the man continued talking, "You are going to be under the supervision of us while working on a very special project," said Pierce. At that, she turned her gaze away from him, to look at anywhere else. She decided to focus on a spot on the wall.

"Developing the super serum."

The statement took her by surprise. She gave him a startled look. "What?"

He repeated, "The super serum. A chemical liquid capable of modifying the human physiology, granting enhanced strength, speed, agility, and intelligence."

Of course. Valerie slowly came to realize that that was what he wanted from the beginning. Why he kidnapped her. The super serum was an elusive scientific miracle that continued to evade modern scientists from achieving its maximum potency. Only two successful test subjects had been recorded before. One was dead, the other became an Avenger. But what use would Pierce, a politician, have for a enhancing serum? She was pretty sure steroids would be cheaper.

"I'm well aware of the serum's effects." Of course she would be. The tale of Steve Roger's miraculous transformation into Captain America was plastered all over her medical school's board. It was hardly a secret.

"Then you know why you're here." Pierce stepped forward. He fixed his pale eyes on her. "Doctor, you have written a well-researched thesis about this while you're at school– "

"How do you know about my thesis?" Valerie ignored the rest of his sentence. She practically froze on spot at the word 'thesis'.

How could he know? She wasn't a particularly high-profile doctor, and her thesis was left in her med school's junk pile – ready to be sent to her sister's. Valerie never knew why her sister was so adamant about getting her hands on that thesis. Of course she knew the potential of the serum, but Maria practically begged for the papers.

But Valerie was sure only her sister knew about the thesis. She wasn't stupid enough to let everyone know about it. Heck, her sister even – at one point – insisted she just burn the damn research. She refused, naturally. After all, pouring 100+ hours of not-procrastinating efforts into 4 sheets of Google and pure willpower tend to attach the writer to their works.

But that didn't explain why any of them, both her sister and Pierce, wanted her thesis so badly. Unless. . .

Unless they wanted to recreate the serum, she thought. And then, she finally understood why.

"I'm head of S.H.I.E.L.D. I can get my hands on anything, doctor. But that's not the point; the point is that you're going to work with my scientists and develop the serum," said Pierce ominously.

Now, he practically loomed over her. The former feeling of relief when she first saw Pierce washed away, replaced by fear, anger and betrayal. Fear – at what would happen to her. Anger – at her sister's obliviousness to her boss. And betrayal – at the supposed peace-keeper and 'altruistic' Secretary of the WSC true alliance.

Betrayal, because as good as Pierce's act was, she'd seen too many men with that exact same power-hungry look in their eyes. They all fell to corruption; she guessed he was no different. Nothing went through her, no matter how long it took her to deduct the truth. And the truth was out there. Suddenly, feeling a sudden surge of adrenaline, Valerie dropped her fear and looked at Pierce straight in the eye. Because if he truly was what she believed him to be, then acting timid no longer mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.

At that moment, Valerie hated nothing more than her sister. How could she have been so blind? Pierce's act was so glaringly bad even a child could tell his intentions were no good. And Maria, the uptight, loyal second-in-command that she was, just handed Valerie's thesis over to him like a good little assistant.

Valerie dropped her act promptly. Nothing matters, she reminded herself.

"You're HYDRA," she said, eyes unwavering. The truth had been spoken. No one flinched, but the atmosphere became thicker with tension. A guard's hand came to rest at the trigger of his 22, which Valerie spotted out of her peripheral vision.

Pierce stared down at her indifferently, the only indicator that he heard her accusation was a mere twitch of his lip.

Nothing matters, she forced her mind to think of those words only. Pierce knew that she knew of his secret, and now that he knew, she'd never escape this place. Making it out alive would be nigh impossible, what with all the chains, mad murderers and a corrupt politician and all. The best she could hope for was to play it cool, not spill any secrets should Pierce's intentions proved more malicious than it seemed, and somehow – in some way – make it out alive.

"Well, now that you've so confidently said the truth, there's no need for me to act like a good host anymore," he said coldly. With a flick of his hand, he motioned at the door, where another person stood guard.

Valerie noticed him before, he was the one leaning against the door earlier on, but he seemed an awful lot more death-like up close. The aura of a hunter exuded from him. He carried himself like a predator, muscles tensed and ready to strike at any moment. The long shaggy dark hair – most likely never trimmed before – obscured most of his face, and he was wearing some kind of muzzle – or mask – that covered his mouth and nose, preventing Valerie from mapping out his facial features.

But when he strode over to Pierce, stood by his side, and turned around to look at her directly, allowing his hair to part, revealing his face – only then did the cold realization hit her.

He had pale blue eyes. She knew those eyes.

Eyes narrowed – focused – like a panther ready to strike. That was all she could see, was all she perceived. There was a snowstorm swirling behind those enigmatic eyes, furious and contained. There was pain, confusion, and yet all of those locked behind a facade of cold ruthlessness. There was an untold story that perhaps was the cause of all the pain she saw in his eyes.

Eyes so freezing she swore she could taste the fresh snow. _Eyes crueler than winter_.

" _Soldat,_ ” Pierce said.

The same eyes she saw before she blacked out, back when she was trying to (pathetically) escape from armed men and ended up waist deep in the snow. And they were so striking they had engrained themselves so deeply into her memories that she could pretend she'd knew those eyes for her whole life. And yet, as Valerie stared, transfixed, at the man's haunting eyes, she failed to see the barrel of a pistol raised at her chest.

She failed to see him pull the trigger.

The sound of a bullet going off ricocheted from the walls and echoed into her ears, as if reliving a distant memory. He had her trapped in his eyes, and she paid the price. Everything around her faded into the background; Valerie felt as though she was, for a brief second, detached from reality.

And then the feeling of the searing hot metal burning through her shirt crashed her back to Earth, and Valerie gave a broken cry. Pain erupted from her lower abdomen, bright hot burning pain. Agonizing pain that almost knocked her unconscious from the sheer force of its excruciating sensation. She instinctively pressed her palm flat on the wound, hoping – in vain – that it might be able to stop the bleeding.

Her breath came out forced and labored. She sunk against the wall, head low, her eyes now concentrated on the bleeding mess. Blood stained her hand, but she couldn't care less. Personal hygiene was the least of her problems right now. She wanted to smack herself so badly.

How could she have been so distracted? This was enemy's territory, and Valerie broke the first rule of trying-to-survive-while-kidnapped-by-psychos by letting her guard down.

"Now, are you going to cooperate with us?" Pierce's voice drifted over to her.

She gritted her teeth. "I'll say this once," she ground out. "Fuck. You."

The pain dazzled her, almost knocking her breath away with its intensity. She was fading out – and there was nothing she could do. One could only lose so much blood before one passed out.

Distantly, she heard Pierce chuckling. He said something, which she struggled to pick up.

"– _keep her alive – in cell 17 – Zola would be pleased_. . . "

She couldn't make out the rest of the sentence, as the sheer efforts of distracting herself from the pain and staying conscious while bleeding out to death was straying her dangerously close to unconscious territory. Valerie needed more coffee than the ones she took 2 days ago if she was to stay awake. If she was to survive.

The man's action, and to an extend, Pierce's, was just a big fat confirmation to her theory. Alexander Pierce was of HYDRA. The man shooting her was most likely a HYDRA goon as well, and if she wasn't careful, her sister could very well be a part of this twisted organization.

Around her, paramedics swarmed in, hands all over her, checking her pulse, injecting her with anesthetics, wrapping her wound in fresh bandages. Then, they lifted on a gurney – which appeared out of nowhere – and pushed her out of the room and down a winding hallway surrounded by grey walls.

She found it funny how 10 seconds ago, their leader had literally ordered her to be shot, and now they're treating her as if she was VIP. But she wasn't thinking straight, the temptation of sleep overtaking her. Like last time, the images of the man's soulless eyes crossed her mind. But this time, she wondered if there was a man in there, or just a monster – who killed with no guilt.

She wondered, before blacking out, if the stories she saw behind those eyes, mere seconds before he shot her, were true. If they were, Valerie would be amazed at his acting skills. No one could shoot someone and look so remorseless.

_No one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are random, and slow. Don’t judge, I’m a very lazy writer. But rest assure, when inspiration hits me I’ll write something down.


	3. oath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You have a minute to get out of that bed before your sister dies." He then rolled up the sleeve of his suit and stared at the watch. "Counting. . . now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, more like a filler chapter, but it is necessary to connect chapter 2 & 4\. You don't have to read it, but don't be confused as to how Valerie went from being shot to walking normally in an unspecified amount of time.
> 
> WARNING! Non-graphic descriptions of blood, gore, minor violence and psychological manipulation.

 

* * *

 [ _Classified Location_ ] Enemy base, January 2013

 

**THERE WAS PAIN IN HER STOMACH.**

Valerie's eyes shot open in a flurry of panic and fear, breathing hard. Light blinded her for a brief second, before it dimmed enough for her to see her surroundings. She was in a hospital bed, of a sort, with tubes hooking her to various drip bags and one currently shoved down into her throat. In was painful not to choke or vomit, but the abrasive surface of the thing made her want to rip it out even more.

Then, she froze, the remnants of yesterday's event catching up to her. Her breathing became labored as she remembered what happened, before she passed out on the operating table.

_He shot her._

Someone just fucking shot her. Holy shit. Valerie tried to keep her breathing in control, tried to push those thoughts away but it wasn't helping at all. She wasn't in control, she was weak. She got shot in the stomach. And had been operated on by the very organization that ordered for her to be shot in the first place. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her shoulders raked, trying to contain the horror that threatened to overwhelm her.

No. No. No no _no no no–_

Why? Why? Why was it her? Why wasn't it anyone else?

But then her mind finally calmed enough for an answer to surface. They needed her work. They, or Alexander Pierce and HYDRA, needed the serum. She knew about the serum, and was smart enough to recreate the exact formula Abraham Erskine used on Steve Rogers, possibly even improve on the basic compounds itself. That was why they took her.

Valerie whimpered at her fate. She wanted to rub her eyes, to make the tears go away, but then felt restraints on her arms and legs.

Oh fuck me. Fuck. _Me_.

She wanted to cry, to scream. To yell out. To curse in 10 different languages, but then remembered about the tube in her mouth and that made her broke down all over again.

HYDRA was real. HYDRA came after her. Maria worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., which HYDRA had taken over. And she was inside of their base, with their equipments hooked to her, inserted in her flesh. With their poison flooding her veins, their drip bags bleeding into her system.

No. . .

All of the sudden, she heard the door creak open, and jumped instinctively. The tube in her throat yanked her head back, and she choked on it, tasting blood in her mouth.

Alexander Pierce walked in, a gun on his hand.

"Doctor Hill," he said pleasantly, vest crisped and shoes shiny. Who would've thought such suave outfits belonged to a megalomaniac? "I believe we got off the wrong foot yesterday."

_I believe you made someone shot me yesterday._

"Let's start over, shall we?"

_Let's give me the gun and we'll talk._

He walked over and sat on the foot of her bed. She resisted the sudden fear that washed over her, trying to keep herself from either kicking him off the bed or killing herself.

Leanint forward, he pushed a button that released the tube from her both. She wanted to bend over and cough, but the restraints forced her back.

” _What are you putting in me_?” Her voice was unrecognizable. He shrugged in the most nonchalant way possible.

”A special cocktail, curtesy of your thesis.”

Her eyes widened, but before she could hurl any insults or threats at him, he pushed another button and the tube went straight inside her throat. Pain burned inside her, but she couldn’t so much as move and had to watch in rage and fear at the man who, indirectly, shot her.

"I need what the world needs. Global peace," he began indulging in his villain speech. "That's a dream very few leaders could achieve, but I believe we're on the brink of making that goal come true. Your serum will revolutionize modern medicine. It'll help all sorts of people, from old to young, from weak to comatose. You just have to see that to understand why I'm doing this."

She couldn't speak due to the tube shoved straight down her esophagus, so she resorted to glaring at him.

"I know you think HYDRA's this twisted organization, a branch of the Nazis, terrorists, but we are futurists, and all we want is to protect the world."

_Great start guys, doing amazing._

He then gave her a chilling look. "But I know nothing that comes out of my mouth will make you change your mind. So here's the thing. Vankov, my close friend and the one who brought you here, suggested that I needed to break it to you slowly."

Suddenly, he leaned straight at her, too close for comfort. She could only stare at him in horror. Break it to her slowly? What did he mean by that?

Pierce smirked. "But I think the best way to tell someone they're either going to die or live is to put it bluntly."

What?! No! _No no no!_

That smirk grew bigger. "You have a family right? Mom and dad, deceased due to health issues. You lived with your sister until college, before parting ways on bad terms."

Her eyes widened. How did he know? How? How much did he knew already? Who told him this?

"Maria Hill is a devoted woman. And a brilliant commander, although sometimes her loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D. blinds her," Pierce said. "She's on a mission as of right now, somewhere far and remote. No human settlements within a 100-mile radius. It would be a shame if an accident happens to her. A middle-aged woman died in an avalanche on a mountain side, tragic death for newspapers to publish."

Fear crashed into her in waves. Unadulterated and complete and utter fear. Her worst nightmare. He was going to _kill her sister._

"But, of course S.H.I.E.L.D. would do anything in their power to protect her, if you choose to become the Doctor. Decline this offer, and your sister's corpse would be buried so deep under the snow her ghost wouldn't be able to find her."

Valerie blinked, tears falling – once, twice. She stopped counting after rakes of sobs shook through her body. Pierce pulled away, satisfied. He didn't even use the gun and yet he still managed to break her.

"You have a minute to get out of that bed before your sister dies." He then rolled up the sleeve of his suit and stared at the watch. "Counting. . . now."

Panic flared through Valerie's head, fear and anger and misery clouding her thoughts. But when she heard the clock ticking her instincts screamed for her to move. And she did, slamming her hand so hard against the metal of her straps it broke. Her hand hurt like hell, but she couldn't care less. Maria's life was in danger. Maria's life depended on her. Maria _Maria MariaMaria_. . .

The name repeated in her head like a mantra, and utilizing every once of strength she had left, she tore her arm away from the strings of IV bags, the needles ripped from her veins in a spray of blood, coloring the wall behind her. Valerie didn't care. She ignored the burning sensation on her left arm and used it to tear open the straps on her right.

Then, with both hands free, she lunged for the tube inside her throat, ripping it out of her. She could taste blood on her mouth, bending over to cough some into the mattress of the bed, before moving on to the restraints on her feet. In less than a second both cuffs feel to the floor uselessly as Valerie jumped off the bed, chest heaving like a wild animal. Blood dripped from her arm, her throat raw and fucked up, but she did what Pierce asked for.

He glanced at his watch, unbothered by her gruesome appearance.

"40 seconds. I'm impressed."

She was about to jump him, ready to rip his face to shreds when sounds of footsteps echoed from the hall. The door bursted open and soldiers flood the room. Pierce stepped away as they grabbed her by the arms and began dragging her away. Her throat was too sore to scream, and she could only stare at him in disbelief and betrayal.

He gave her a cold smile.

"You're strong. Let's see how you hold up against the Winter Soldier."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just rewrote a small part of this chapter to fit the continuity of the story. Plot changed a little, no biggie.


	4. broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he could do was watch her poke his leg, cutting and cleaning, until she pulled away with a tweezer, holding a single bullet in it. She dropped it into a tray and went back to stitching him up. He was surprised at how quick and efficient she worked. Clipped and precise. He hadn't had many doctors who worked like that.

* * *

[ _Classified Location_ ] HYDRA base, January 2013

 

**HE WAS BACK FROM ANOTHER MISSION.**

The van he was on pulled to a stop in front of a side of a mountain. Snow was pouring heavily outside, a white blanket over what would've been a lively tundra. There, carved in the side of the rocks, was the entrance to a bunker.

His boots crunched against the tiles as he made his way towards the it. The mission was a success, albeit not without injuries.

He had been somewhere mountainous, with heavy snowfall and a blizzard whirling overhead. The cold usually didn't get to him, but there it had been a degree of cold that even he shivered thinking about it. Though, that didn't prevent the Soldier from finishing the mission. A dead scientist, killed through an enemy agent. She was fast, strong – he'd give her that. Strong enough to pull the scientist over the truck he'd crashed. But that didn't stop his target's untimely death, a round of bullets shot through her stomach.

He saw her collapse on the side of the cliff as his truck past by. His handlers were cheering, yelling victoriously at the defeated agent. But then, in a flash of red hair, she pulled out a gun and shot him back, right in his leg. He'd grunted in pain and fell onto the truck's floor, and there was cursing around him. Then they drove through some hidden trails and the base loomed over him. A stab of pain shot through his leg, and he lost consciousness.

The next time he woke up, he was in the wiping room, sitting on the machine. A wave of panic swept over him but he forced it down. He was still hazy, from whatever drugs they gave him. The bullet was still embedded in his thigh, and needed removing before his body could heal.

Suddenly, there were people yelling. Shouting. The Soldier jerked, alerted as several people flooded the room. They were soldiers, armed, restraining what looked like a woman. She yelled something scathing at them, but it was too distorted over the loud yells for him to pick up. He was shocked at the security surrounding her. There were actual soldiers holding her back.

_What was happening?_

The woman looked like she'd been from Hell and back. Her hair was a mess, she had blood on her face and hands, and her lab coat was dirty. A soldier came up and yanked her head back, pulling on her hair, and she stared straight at Pierce with fury and defiance; it was the look his targets usually had before he shot them: resignation. Warriors at the end of their ropes. It hadn't belonged to the eyes of a female, much less aimed at the leader of HYDRA himself.

One agent shoved her forward and she stumbled, almost falling flat on her face had she not braced herself. There was anger and betrayal in the way she moved, uncoordinated and full of rage. She almost lunged at him, but grabbed the tray of equipments instead. He couldn't say he was relieved she decided not to attack him. Not that she could do him any harm, but Pierce hadn't given any orders on restraining her. So he stayed still, unmoving, and watched with detached curiosity as she examined his leg when they ordered her to.

The room wasn't meant for medical care, more for mission debrief and to shock him, so seconds later he found himself moved to another, smaller room. Pierce had left, he must've missed it in his haze of pain and numbness. Then, there sounds of clothes ripping and he looked down to see the tattered remains of his uniform pants. The female was crouching, hands working a blur to remove the bloodstains off his skin and dabbing cottons over the wound. Then she pulled out a surgeon knife and made an incision over where the bullet had went in.

He was already on some kind of numbing agent, so he couldn't feel a thing. All he could do was watch her poke his leg, cutting and cleaning, until she pulled away with a tweezer, holding a single bullet in it. She dropped it into a tray and went back to stitching him up. He was surprised at how quick and efficient she worked. Clipped and precise. He hadn't had many doctors who worked like that.

The woman set down the tweezer and wiped her hands over a piece of cloth. He saw something flashed in her eyes, something cruel and wicked. Before he could decipher the meaning of it, she stood up, a scalpel in her hand, and stabbed it into the neck of the guard nearest to her. The spray of blood didn't bother her, and he gurgled and dropped to the floor like a marionette cut off its strings.

Everyone froze, then someone shouted and the spell broke. A guard jumped her, but she dodged the attack and swiped her leg, tripping him.

There were more shoutings and several guards dove for her. She vaulted across the room, her hair matted with blood from before, and drove the scalpel into another guard's eye. He howled in pain and dropped his gun, before slumping to the ground.

The Soldier could've helped them, but he was given no orders to and the drugs were acting on him so he stayed put, observing the fight.

The woman continued her assault on the guards, but before she could kill the fourth one, actual armed agents ran in and stopped her. Two had her by her arms and slammed her against a wall, and one stepped forward, pressing a gun to her forehead.

She hadn't looked afraid, or even remotely fazed. Her eyes were calculating, as if using the time to plan her escape. The agent shouted something he couldn't hear. The drugs were getting the better of him. The man who had a gun to her forehead threatened to kill her. Then, the room froze again and Pierce entered, looking – if anything – amused.

"Drop your gun. Let her go." His voice boomed over the chaos of the room. The Soldier ducked his head, not wanting to meet the eyes of the commander, and instead focused on the woman and the guards holding her.

"She killed three of my men. I think the bitch deserves her bullet," the man growled, punctuating it by driving the gun deeper against her forehead.

"You killed your men by underestimating her. Weren't you the one who let your men go in unarmed?" Pierce said cooly. "She's worth a twenty of you, skills and brains alike. Let. Her. _Go_." And with a scrape of boots, he was gone.

The guard's stare hardened, but the woman met his eyes with equal fury. Then, with one last disgusted glare, he lowered his gun and motioned for his men to stop. They released her and she dropped to the floor, coughing. She started crawling away when one of the guards' foot caught her ankle and he drove his boot downwards, breaking the joint. A sharp gasp escaped her and she curled back, wedging herself between two shelves, panting lightly.

The one in charge shot her a pitiful glance before gesturing at the Soldier.

"Take him to the lab," he ordered.

One of the guards came up and caught his arm. "What about her?"

The corner of the leader's mouth lifted cruelly. "She's so smart, isn't she?" His tone was cold with awful mocking. "I'm sure she can make herself better."

"Pierce wouldn't appreciate the Asset's Doctor injured like that," a guard warned, pulling him up to a stand. The leader scoffed, walking away without so much as looking back. 

"She's not dead. They need her brain, not her ankle."

Guards flanked him, grabbing his arms and hauling him forward. They didn't need to, he thought. In this drug-induced state, he couldn't move, much less kill someone. He did, however, turned around to see the Doctor – what she's called now – panting in short, quick breaths. He couldn't see her face, but judging by the way she was breathing and moving, it seemed that she was already working on her broken ankle. Well, she was certainly had more survival instincts than he thought.

Then they dragged him out of the room and to the lab, strapped him to the table and shocked him. The pain still hadn't gone away by the time they out him the the cryo-chamber.

_Put him on ice._

And then there was nothing.

 

 

* * *

[ _Classified Location_ ] HYDRA base, March 2014

 

**THIS WAS THE SHITTIEST YEAR OF HER LIFE.**

First, she managed to get herself captured by the word's biggest asshole get together on Earth. Then she was given the choice to either work for them or have her family slaughtered. And she managed to get shot on the same date, and finally was forced to fix the guy who'd shot her in the first place. Great.

Oh, and her broken ankle too.

_Fucking great._

Now, standing in front of a computerized version of Arnim Zola with a clipboard in her hand, Valerie was beginning to wonder if she had won the prize for the Worst Luck Imaginable contest. A noise that sounded like someone was clearing their throat reached her, and she looked up. The monitor displaying Zola's face stood before her.

Could a computer actually clear its throat?

"Hill, are you saying Pierce was wrong?" Zola asked in his nasally voice. No matter how many times she'd heard it before, she'd never get used to talking to a monitor screen.

Tipping her head back, she said, "With all due respect sir, he was never the most patient of HYDRA's leaders. Too bloodthirsty, if you asked me. He sent me to tell you Project Insight's launch had been delayed till next week."

Zola's face flickered, indicating he was agitated. "Don't tell me he's been mucking up Herr Schmidt's good work, fräulein." She imagined if he had a head he would be shaking it.

"Schmidt couldn't even stop an American from crashing his plane. I wouldn't say he'd done a good work so far," Valerie said in a dry tone. Zola made a disapproving noise, which made her grin inside.

"If Pierce hadn't appointed you as Head Scientist, I would've killed you," Zola said. She ignored him, stepping back to reveal her clipboard, and with a swish of her hand, several holograms exploded into the air. There were several depicting a ship, with a STRIKE team taking over it. Two more showed Captain Rogers and the Black Widow, respectively.

The computer, Zola – she corrected, hummed. If a buzzing sound is what humming sounded like.

"Seems like a standard op. Extract hostages, clean some pirates, take back the Lemurian Star," he noted. _Thank you, Captain Obvious._

"It's also full of dirty secrets," she supplied. "The pirates demanded a ransom, over a billion dollars, since the ship was S.H.I.E.L.D.'s. Funny enough, you don't see normal mercenaries going after the world's foremost counter-terrorist organization." She swiped the hologram and another one appeared, displaying a map. "A few days before Star's hijacking, Georges Batroc – the leader of the pirates –bank account received a large sum of money. It went through 14 different bank accounts before reaching his'. The last one traced back to a house address. 3006 Rhode Island Avenue. Guess who's house is next to that."

"Alexander Pierce." Zola sounded pissed.

"Alexander Pierce," she confirmed, nodding. With a pull of her hand, all the holograms retreated back to her clipboard. She stared at the monitor before her. "Here's my theory. Pierce hired a group of mercenaries, lead by the one guy with the balls to attack a S.H.I.E.L.D. ship, to cover up whatever schemes he had behind the scenes. That way, he had a reason to delay Insight. Perhaps. . ." she said, sounding thoughtful, "perhaps he doesn't want to launch it at all."

"This is high treason!" Zola shrieked, sounding outraged. Valerie hid a grin behind her clipboard. "He couldn't have. . . He – he would never. . . !"

"But he did, didn't he?"

The monitor flickered again. "You sure this is all true?" He sounded like he was about to nuke Pierce's ass off the Earth.

Valerie nodded seriously, managing to surprise a victorious smile from reaching her face. "I've sent the files to you. Feel free to analyze as much time as you want. But trust me when I say that Pierce might not be what he seemed."

Zola made a frustrated noise, which meant he was wrestling with himself on whether to agree with her or not. But judging by the way he sighed, she was sure she won.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked again. Valerie managed not to sigh.

"You've been helping me develop the serum for over a year now. I thought I'd do you a favor," she said with a smile. Arnim Zola, while a brilliant and accomplished scientist, was a remarkably easy man to manipulate. Say the right words at the right time and you could pull his strings without much effort.

"Fine. Fine," he seethed out. "Pierce wants to ruin HYDRA? I'll ruin him first." He didn't sound very scary saying that. Valerie imagined him doing a villain speech. She couldn't.

Then Zola continued ranting his head off, rambling on and on about going against Pierce and serving HYDRA's true ideology, making Schmidt proud. Whatever.

Valerie nodded in fake-enthusiasm, but inside she was bursting with joy. Zola had, more or less, decided to turn on Pierce. Which meant he was on her side now. So, that's one item off the list. Now onto Fury, the actual culprit behind Georges Batroc's little attack.

If she was being honest, Fury should've been more careful when gathering S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intel. Valerie's not fond of cleaning after his mess, but it was necessary.

A year under HYDRA taught her many things. One of them was to follow her gut. Sure, sometimes it sounded crazy and completely helpless, but doing what instincts tell you had saved her far more times than thinking ever had. This fight, this war that Fury was waging, it's not tipping in his favor. And she needed to tip it back on the scale of balance. Valerie's not sure when she adopted this altruistic mindset, feeling the need to do something good, but she guessed it was better than just slaving away while Pierce destroyed the rest of the world.

Plus, doing this was kind of fun.

"You will not tell this to anyone, you hear?" Zola growled menacingly.

Valerie blinked at him. " 'Course. I'll keep this under wrap." She made a zipping motion over her mouth. "Not a word from me."

The screen flickered again, before turning black, signaling that their conversation was over. She sighed, sagging her shoulders. This was more exhausting than she thought, but she reminded herself that it'd be worth it in the end. Then, she straightened herself and walked out the door of the bunker.

Her next item on the list was in danger. She needed to make a phone call.

 

 

* * *

[ _Classified Location_ ] S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, March 2014

 

**MARIA HILL WAS HALF-SLEEPING ON HER DESK WHEN HER PHONE RANG.**

She yawned and reached over to pick it up. Who was even calling her this late at night? She was about to place it over her ear when the voice of her sister hit her.

"Chrissy, we have to talk."

Maria almost choked on air. "What the– Valerie?!"

A fierce shushing sound came over the phone. "First, it's Vanessa, I don't know who the fuck is Valerie. And two, I need to talk to you."

There was a lump in Maria's throat. And many questions in her head. "Talk about what? I thought you were dead!"

_What happened to you?_ She thought desperately. _What's happening?_

" _Shhhhhhh!_ I swear to God Chrissy, stop saying that! Listen, there's something going on."

She shook her head and held the phone tighter. "Something so important it took you 3 years to call me?"

"This is confidential information. The kind that need you to move as far away from your office as possible," Valerie snapped at her. Then Maria suddenly froze. There were sounds of footsteps outside.

"Shit."

"Yes idiot. Now get _out of there!_ " She didn't need to be told twice before darting out from the back entrance and running down a long, winding staircase. Maria had her phone on the entire time, hoping to hear Valerie talk again, but her sister remained silent. Maybe she figured out something was wrong. When Maria reached the final steps and hopped off, running across the street to a dining restaurant, Valerie finally spoke again.

"You out of there yet?"

"Yeah. . . Close call. I think they rigged my office." She took a second to catch her breath, then looked at the restaurant beside her. "Hey, would you mind discussing 'confidential intel' in a diner?"

She could hear her sister chuckle. "It's fine. Hope you're not to hungry."

"Oh believe me," Maria said, strolling past the entrance, "I'm starving." 

She entered the diner and ordered her food without much trouble. The servers were nice and not nosy, just Maria's kind of people, and left her as soon as the food arrived.

"I could hear the plates sliding. What did you order?"

Maria grabbed a fork and knife and dug into her dinner. "Some spaghetti and meatballs. Now talk," she said, biting on her fork.

"You sound like the kind of Maria I know." Valerie was talking in the dry tone she used so often.

She rolled her eyes. "You want me to listen or not?"

"Alright, alright. Here's the thing."

And Valerie talked. And told her everything. _Everything_. How Pierce was HYDRA's leader all along. How S.H.I.E.L.D had been compromised from the inside. How Fury was in danger of being assassinated. The place was loud enough to cover their conversation, but Maria still managed to pick up every piece of information Valerie threw at her. By the end, Maria was so shocked she almost dropped her fork.

"Shit. Shit shit shit. This is worse than I thought." She ran a hand over her hair.

"Than you thought? What?" Valerie sounded surprised and impressed at the same time. "Who told you?"

"Fury himself," Maria supplied, eyeing the diner suspiciously. She doubt there was any HYDRA agent undercover here, but she just needed to be sure. "Weeks ago, he told me that there's something wrong with Pierce. He wasn't acting like himself. He's more. . . agitated, I guess. Fury said he was planning something and he didn't know what. So he ordered Romanoff to get intel from a ship, while disguised as a hostage rescue mission."

"The Lemurian Star," Valerie breathed. Maria went cold.

"What! How did you know?" She ground her teeth, punctuating each word. Valerie cursed, then hesitated over the line, a bad sign that the something wrong ran deeper than she originally thought.

"Not important," her sister brushed it off briskly. "Right now, what's important is to tell Fury not to go out tomorrow. He needs to stay somewhere protected and secure, and you need to be with him."

But Maria wasn't having it. "Valerie. Tell me. How did you know?" Her tone was low and full of warning. Valerie sighed and she heard shuffling on the other side. The line crackled before going back to normal.

"I'm HYDRA's head scientist now." Maria's jaw dropped and her blood ran cold. What? Her sister was HYDRA the whole time? "But Maria, listen to me. I know who's going after Fury. He's the best assassin HYDRA has and – Maria? Maria!"

But she couldn't hear Valerie anymore. There was this buzzing over her ear that locked her from reality. She couldn't believe it. Valerie, her sister. The kindest person on the planet. Was working under HYDRA.

"Maria! Maria, breath with me. Breath, please. You're having a panic attack." Her sister's calm voice didn't made her feel any better, but she didn't realize she was on the verge of an attack until Valerie pointed it out. Her breaths came out shallow and quick, and there was an awful constriction on her chest. She struggled to keep herself in control. If she freaked out now, the guests would get suspicious. HYDRA would get suspicious.

"You lied to me," she whispered, managing not to cry. " _You lied to me!_ "

"Chrissy, I'd never – "

"Would you drop the name, please?!"

"It's for your safety you fucking imbecile!" Valerie shouted. "I got you out of the building didn't I? I told you about HYDRA's secrets. Why wouldn't I hand you over right now? Because I fucking care about you, and Fury, and the world. And if you can't get your head back in the gutter and get this done, then I'd have to do this alone. I'd preferred not to."

Her sister was trying to inject logic into her. Trying to make sense of the situation. And Maria was struggling to cope. She never thought of the day when she was helpless. Maria Hill was a woman who could command S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best agents – Barton and Romanoff, who would do the right thing without hesitance, who was one of the few people to stand toe-to-toe with Nick Fury himself. But right now, Maria was terrified. Terrified for her, for her sister, for the world. It was a jumble of fear and paranoia that overwhelmed her.

"Maria, Maria _please_ – "

"Look me in the eye and say you're going to take down HYDRA," she said with surprising strength. Valerie paused on the other end, and her worst fear came true. Oh no. Oh please no. She couldn't be— she would _never–_

"I can't personally look at you right now, but I swear Maria, I'm going to make HYDRA pay for what it did," she sounded so vengeful and sincere it hurt. Her logics were telling her to turn Valerie in, but her guts convinced her to believe otherwise. "But you have to listen to me. Fury is in grave danger. There's an assassin, the best I've ever seen, sent after him. He'll do anything to kill him. Make sure he's safe. Call in Coulson, Melinda. Fitz, _anyone_."

"Alright," Maria said after a beat. "Alright, I hear you." She hid her face in her hair, shoulders trembling. Taking in a deep breath, she straightened herself and stared ahead.

"Thank God," Valerie said in relief. "I was worried you were having a panic attack."

Maria almost choked in laughter. "I was, but you walked me through it and I had an easier time breathing."

"Well, that's why I'm the best doctor in the business."

"Wait." She got a bad feeling. "Is that why HYDRA took you?"

"Now's not the time to talk about my love life. We can have a moment later. Go. Save Fury."

Maria didn't even get to say good bye when the line went silent. She stared at her phone for a while, not moving at all. The weight of the truth was still settling in her when her phone beeped again, and a single text message showed up. She swiped her finger over it, revealing a whole lot more information.

_The assassin's the winter soldier. We're being transferred to Washington as of now. I think he's going after fury some time next week. Be prepared._

_— v._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I wanted to note somethings here.  
>   
> 1) The attack on the mountain, where Bucky shot Natasha, happened in 2009 according to the MCU. But I wanted to move it forward to 2013 to fit the time continuum in MY AU.  
>   
> 2) As we all know, it was actually Nick Fury who hired the pirates to hijack the Lemurian Star to get. . . insight on Project Insight. Valerie lied to Zola that it was Pierce’s doing to turn him against her biggest enemy, and to make sure Pierce would kill Zola later on. Because in the movie, when HYDRA tried to kill Steve and Nat by essentially blasting Zola’s brain into pieces, it was kinda weird. Like why would you kill your co-founder and leader and most important scientist, who (canonically) WROTE THE ALGORITHM FOR PROJECT INSIGHT???
> 
> Just to clear some confusions.


	5. gunshot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was still staring at the bottles she was holding, unable to comprehend what she said. There was this strange tightness in his chest, the kind that felt good. It was like. . . he enjoyed being taken care of. Enjoyed being patched up instead of beaten for once. He looked at the doctor with newly found gratitude, taking the bottles from her.

* * *

_Washington DC_ , March 2014 [a day after]

 

**THEY DIDN'T EVEN GIVE HER PROPER FOOD.**

Valerie grumbled and chewed on the vomit-inducing snack that was protein bars. She could never understand how people manage to digest these. Her stomach reject anything not homemade, and so she was having a hard time finishing her 'dinner'. It was nightfall by the time they reached a bank in the middle of Washington DC, where the new base was located. Not exactly her kind of discreet, but apparently Pierce had a money fetish.

She tipped her head back with a sigh. It was still hard to believe that, a year after her kidnapping, she had turned from snarky, uncooperative doctor to Pierce's leading scientist. The man actually trusted her. _Trusted_ her; someone who he should never trust in the first place. She doubted even Romanoff could get this far. But what could she say? Power blinded people sometime. The more power you held, the more you think you're invincible. That was one weakness from Pierce that she'd exploited.

Valerie turned around and saw her own team of scientists scattered throughout the truck, all sleeping peacefully. There weren't any guard in here (one of the many perks of practically being Pierce's right hand-woman), except for one certain assassin sitting to her right. But she requested for him to be here; she couldn't bear the sight of his handlers beating him. As powerful as the Soldier was, he acted completely obedient and vulnerable around guards and agents alike. Even more so when Pierce's around. Valerie, as cruel as her facade was, had no tolerance for unnecessary violence.

She turned around to watch the Soldier drift in and out of his sleep. It was kind of cute and sad at the same time. Her truck was the quietest of all trucks, and her men had no interest in humiliating the Soldier, so she was glad he felt safe enough to sleep. Well, half-sleep anyway. His instincts must be screaming at him to stay alert.

Valerie watched him for a few more seconds, before digging into her bag and pulled out a protein bar. She hated the stuff, but didn't really had anything else for him. He obviously hadn't eat and she was not having an energy-deprived Soldier on her watch. As she shuffled closer to him, he jumped awake, eyes wide and startled.

"At ease, soldat." She tried to sound as comforting as possible. He was still jumpy, his breathing jagged and hard, like a feral cat when injured. If she approached him now, he would lash out as a defensive instinct, so she waited until he calmed. Until the peaceful air in the truck soothes his nerves.

She wiggled the protein bar, hoping that he'd take it. Her stomach dropped when all he did was duck his head and curl himself near the corner of the truck.

How badly had he been treated by his handlers? She never actually saw him being abused physically, but had heard tales from her men's gossips. She never thought it would be that bad: being mocked for even accepting food. It was disgusting, and barbaric, but she really was helpless. Pierce was buying her act, so she had to do it convincingly. Sneaking food to him was probably as much she could do right now.

Seeing she was still offering the bar to him, the Soldier sneaked a glance at it. He looked so scared she wanted to smack his handlers over their heads. Fucking HYDRA.

"It's fine. I won't hurt you," she assured him. "You need to eat, you're body's obvious deprived of sleep and energy. Take this bar and you can sleep later."

Valerie wasn't sure what did it. Maybe it was the sincerity in her voice, maybe she just sounded honest. Whatever it was, he eventually reached out with his metal arm and took the snack from her tentatively. She smiled encouragingly at him, and the Soldier eyed her warily before going back to stare at the protein bar.

They were still a long way from the new base, so Valerie allowed herself some rest. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, using the engine's sound as white noise. Then, she heard sound of package being ripped, and something crunching. Valerie's satisfied smile was hidden behind the collar of her jacket.

 

* * *

 _HYDRA base - Washington DC_ , March 2014

 

**"YOUR LAB'S DOWN THE HALLWAY," AN ANONYMOUS AGENT POINTED OUT.**

She nodded, pulling in the straps of her bag and strolled towards where the agent told her. It was still a long walk, but better than the other base. She swore she saw a decent bathroom on the way. God _bless_.

Their truck had arrived a few hours ago, which was the last one. The journey from snowy Ukraine to the capital of the US wasn't an easy one, nor was it comfortable. They had to bypass American security, which although looked impressive – it was startlingly vulnerable (not that she'd tell anyone). Valerie remembered the truck driver shooting someone, but maybe it was just her dream. She sure as Hell was thankful HYDRA didn't like moving bases as she did, so the trip was quicker than expected.

So here she was, shivering from the over-working air conditioners, in front of her lab entrance, facing it like she was facing war. Her people were already setting up equipments inside, everything from microscopes to racks of biochemical liquids, to a full shelf stacked to the brim with glass beakers that would be a bitch to clean if they broke.

"You look like Hell," someone said from her side. Valerie tried not to jump, but her shoulders did twitch a little.

"Nice to see you too, Moores," she said dryly. Her assistant gave a smirk in return. She rolled her eyes at him. "Remind me to deduct your monthly wages tomorrow."

He placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. "You wouldn't."

She grinned at him. "Try me." And with that, she took off to the lab, leaving a confused assistant behind her.

Inside, the lab was better looking. There were still scrap cardboards and small debris left, but it was still tolerable to her eyes. Some people had already camped up in empty rooms, maybe potential office-materials. Moores was shouting a slew orders to several terrified (and possibly kidnappees); she watched with a sense of wistfulness when they hurried off to obey. With no intentions of staying, she turned on her heels, about to explore the rest of her new lab when someone tapped her shoulder.

"They've set up your office already. You wanna go check it out?"

She turned to see a new face, giving her a scan. Petite, small-statured, with freckles across her face in an aesthetically pleasing way, and doe-like eyes. Her hair was tied back into a low ponytail, (Valerie made a mental note to tell her that that was against lab rules) and she had her lab coat shrugged half-off her left shoulder, revealing her rather bare neckline. There was also something doodled on her shoulder, she probably used a Sharpie. She didn't seem a day over 20.

This girl looked like she cared more about looking good than actually working.

Valerie disliked these kinds of people. Too obsessed about their 'theme' and not enough about their lives. She didn't even know why HYDRA hired her in the first place. Maybe to piss their Head Scientist off?

"Sure. Lead the way," she replied, sounding as cold as possible.

The girl let out a giggle (an actual, honest to goodness, giggle), grabbed her hand, and pulled her across the lab until they reached her office. She yanked her hand back as soon as they arrived.

"Enjoy your stay." The girl waved her hand, and turned to leave. Valerie heaved a sigh, and turned the knob of the door open. As soon as she got inside, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She never realized how tired she was until the sight of a bed hit her. Maybe she'd wonder why they had a fucking bed in her office at a later time, but right now she really didn't care. Her mind was shutting down, and by the time she shrugged off her lab coat, got her shoes off and released her hair, Valerie climbed onto her bed and collapsed into a (hopefully) peaceful slumber.

 

* * *

 _HYDRA base - Washington DC_ , March 2014

 

**VALERIE THOUGHT SHE HEARD GUNSHOTS OUTSIDE HER ROOM.**

She ignored it at first, thinking maybe some dumb agents got a hold of an assault rifle and went crazy, or maybe they were executing someone she didn't know. Maybe HYDRA just got bored and decided to kill everyone? That'd be awesome, but she doubt Pierce was ignorant enough to let his men run free, firing bullets down the hallway. Especially not this close to the lab, where racks and racks of unfinished super serum were stored.

After the third shot, which ricocheted off of what sounded like metal, Valerie grumbled and dragged herself off bed.

Who the fuck was shooting this early in the morning? It's like 10 a.m, for God's sake!

She was about to call security and get rid of whatever-the-fuck was going on out there when a HYDRA agent bursted into her room, told her she was needed, and demanded she get out of bed as soon as possible. If her morning wasn't interrupted by an emergency, Valerie swore she would've wring that loud head off of the agent's neck.

Mumbling some dark threats about human decapitation, she begrudgingly followed him down a series of winding hallways before reaching what looked like a vault room, of a sort. There were walls covered in lockers, all of which must be stacked to the rim with cash. But the money wasn't what caught her attention. Rather, it was the sight of the Soldier standing in the middle of the room, breathing hard like a wounded animal. Guards formed a perimeter around him, guns raised and loaded.

She immediately stepped in. "Wow wow _wow_. Hold your fire, drop your weapons. What's happening?"

One of the guards lifted his head, sneering. She didn't know if it was aimed at her or at the Soldier.

"He lost control. We were about to prep for his next mission when he just. . . lashed out," he said angrily, aiming the gun right at the Soldier's head. Valerie felt her blood boil. This wasn't how you're supposed to treat your own men, ready to shoot at them as if taking down a feral. It wasn't helping the situation at all. She could feel the Soldier's ragged breaths, the way his eyes darted from one gun to the next, the way he squared his shoulders – ready for a fight that he could not win. She'd never seen this before, but could make an educated guess that he was having a PTSD episode.

Inside his head, there was just blood and dirt. He was separated from reality, trapped in a never-ending war. Soldiers experiencing flashbacks weren't pretty. These guards sure as hell weren't helping by pointing firearms at his head.

"Drop. Your. Weapon," she ground out, staring hard at them. "He's having an episode, and you're stressing him out. If you want him to lash out again, shooting him would be a really good start, _thanks_."

The guards hesitated, but didn't lower their guns yet. Valerie was about opened her mouth to chew them out when a pained gasp was heard behind her. Turning around sharply, she saw the Soldier's eyes widened in a panic, and bloodstain on his right shoulder. Oh hell no. _He was shot._

Without thinking and acting on instinct, Valerie recklessly reached out to examine the wound through touch when, in a movement to quick for her to follow, his arm - the mechanical one - surged forward and grabbed her wrist, fingers curling above the knob of bone painfully. She staggered, moving with the flow of his motion or else risk getting her arm snapped. He now stood over her, hair parting to reveal steely eyes and a grim expression. Her heart stopped, and she ran cold when she realized he could very _easily_ kill her right now.

Then, to make matters worse, she heard the sound of gun clicking (those goddamn guards and the thick skulls of theirs) and resisted the urge to turn around. Right now, keeping eye contact with the Soldier was the only thing preventing her from getting killed.

"Guards, drop your weapons," she said, surprised at how calm she sounded. She could hear them shuffling in agitation behind her.

"But he's– "

"Agitated and feels threatened. You wouldn't help the situation by pointing a gun at his head." She kept a wince from surfacing when the Soldier's grip tightened, eyes darting from her to what she presumed was the barrel of rifle pointed at his head.

One of the guards even had the guts to say, "Ma'am, I cannot allow any harm to come to you."

_Oh, they were still going weren't they?_

Irritated, she tried her best not to snap at him and risk getting her wrist snapped. Instead, she turned her attention to the Soldier, keeping her cool and controlling her pulse's rate. He was watching her intently, mouth pressed into a grim line. Valerie never thought of the day she'd be afraid of him again.

The first time she saw the Soldier, she was in a haze of sleep-induced drugs and sunk waist-deep into the snow. He was a blurry image, with his eyes being the only thing that stood out against the white background. Then, the next time they met, he had shot her, a round straight through her stomach. She was rushed to the OR and had it surgically removed, and spent the next week wondering when she was going to die. Pierce tried to convert her to HYDRA idealism, and she resisted until he brought up the topics of her family and how easily their lives could end. She went with him without question.

Since then, Valerie had known nothing short of violence. She hadn't had a hand in it, personally, but had witnessed various HYDRA agents kill targets with varying level of gruesomeness, and whenever the Soldier was injured, she was called to stitch him up. Sometimes it was just normal agents, and some even died on her operating table. So yes, death wasn't a stranger to her. She hardly felt afraid of it anymore. HYDRA was harsh and unforgiving, so she grew hard to protect herself. That was how she became the lead scientist, and the forefront researcher on super serum, not that HYDRA was getting any.

Valerie thought she could stand toe-to-toe with the worst of men. It took a nonagenarian assassin with a metal arm to make her feel vulnerable.

" _Soldat_ ," she said in a low whisper. His gaze snapped to her, pale and intense. Like he was staring at his worst nightmare. "I'm not here to hurt you, but to help. You have a shoulder that needs taking care of. Bullet wounds can be messy, and it could cause an infection that would hinder your service. I need you to release me so I can take a look at it. Maybe at the lab so I have my equipments ready."

He was still staring, so maybe a little more convincing was needed. "I brought you protein bars the day before. Remember that?" At this, his breathing became more stable. _Progress_. "There's no weapon on me. I'm harmless."

His gaze snapped to where the guards stood behind her. He glanced back. "They have firearms."

Her breath hitched a little, hearing him talk – not in Russian, but in perfect English. For some reason, she expected for him to have an accent. He sounded very. . . normal.

"You heard him. Drop your weapons and see yourselves out," Valerie ordered sharply. The guards hesitated, but lowered their guns nonetheless. The Soldier stared at them for a while longer, until they grew uncomfortable and ran off. _Finally_.

"Are we good?" she asked him. He looked at her, now calmer for a change, and gave a little nod. His metal fingers left her skin and she resisted the urge to check them. Nothing more than a temporary handprint. She had more pressing matter here.

"Let's go check that shoulder of yours, yes?"

 

* * *

 _HYDRA base - Washington DC_ , March 2014

 

 **"HOLD STILL," SHE SAID,** holding a pair of tweezers over the wound. He grimaced, but didn't say anything as she used her fingers to keep the wound open. A short second later, the bullet was fished out cleanly and she grabbed some gauze to wrap over his shoulder.

They were back at the lab, with shelves of clear vials, needles and strange equipments lying around. But for some reason, he felt completely at ease here.

He watched her the entire time. Watched her work in quick and precise motions, with great efficiency and professionalism. It had surprised him how good she is at her field, as it did the first time she got a bullet out of his thigh. Then he was surprised he even remembered it. He paused in his thoughts, trying to make sense of this. . . whatever it was.

Remembering was, shockingly, as easy as flipping on or off a switch. For a long time, he had been in a state of in-and-out of memories. They were very vague, often frustrating, and confusing at best. He usually got them after going out of cryo, most of which were flashes of a skinny blonde man and a snowy mountain.

He had no idea what those images meant. He had no idea, period. It was such a foreign concept to him – remembering – that he was part astonished and fearful when it happened. Though maybe it had to do with the fact that they hadn't shocked him in a long time, and he had no desire to endure that procedure ever again.

He snapped his head off indulging too deep into that topic, and instead focused on the doctor before him – the one meticulously applying bandage over his wounded shoulder. Dissecting why he remembered was something the Soldier did not know, and he did not appreciate not knowing things. So he decided to study her, analyze her as he would to a potential target. This was something he knew very well, and it helped ground the situation to a more familiar area.

She was female. Average height. Fit for a normal person, but with the stamina of a soldier. He'd seen her work shifts day and night without fainting of energy deprivation. Light to medium brown hair tied into a neat bun. Her complexion was pale due to the lack of heat back in the old base, but was starting to warm up. For a good reason, she looked very normal. Her appearance meant she could disappear in any crowds without drawing attention to herself. The only thing that might make her noticeable was the odd way she walked: a slight limp on her left leg.

He remembered there being a story behind that anomaly, but couldn't reach it even if he tried.

Then, without warning, the doctor rose to full height so suddenly it caused him to tense up. But then he realized what she'd been doing, and glanced down to see a perfectly bandaged up shoulder.

"There, good as new. It might still feel sore and achy for the first week or so, and you can't over exercise it. But with your enhanced metabolism, that shoulder'll heal up in no time at all."

She then reached over her bag and pulled out some bottles filled with colorful pills. "This one – " She shook the left bottle. "– is to ease the soreness away. And this one – " She shook the other one. "– is for the pain. Take 2 per dose when you need it. Don't take more than 4 in a single day. Come to me if you run out."

He was still staring at the bottles she was holding, unable to comprehend what she said. There was this strange tightness in his chest, the kind that felt good. It was like. . . he enjoyed being taken care of. Enjoyed being patched up instead of beaten for once. He looked at the doctor with newly found gratitude, taking the bottles from her. She smiled easily back at him.

"You can go now. No need for you to stay," she said softly. 

He reached for her again despite himself, fingers brushing against the warmth of her skin. He shivered, despite himself, and found that he didn't want to pull away. _Warmth_. How long had it been since he last felt warm? Was it weeks? Months? Years? He couldn't remember, couldn't recall a moment in this base where he felt like this, a fire in his chest, not burning, warm and soothing, painful enough to convince him it was real. The Doctor, she had that fire, and he had just been in the receiving end of her flame.

"I don't– " There was a tightness in his throat that he couldn't explain. "Can I stay?"

He immediately regretted saying it. His instincts screamed for him to back out, to obey. She was of higher ranking than him. She could very well punish him for disobeying a direct order. He was a weapon, meant to be used, meant to kill. He wasn't supposed to question, to voice his needs. _Questions got you beaten_ , his mind whispered. _They got you cold, and blank, and left you a hollow mess._

_Have you forgotten all of that? The pain?_

The Soldier had the sudden urge to back away, to duck his head mechanically and comply. That was what he did – comply. But in such close proximity to her, to see the softness in her eyes, the Doctor who snapped at agents who tried to shoot him, the Doctor who fed him (the first one to had done it in a long time), the one speaking to him in a tone that wasn't abusing, he realized that he wanted that, wanted to be treated like a. . . 

_A human._

"Yes."

Her answer took him by surprise and snapped him out of his thoughts. He stared at her incredulously.

"Yes," she repeated, as if he hadn't heard her the first time. Her smile reached her eyes. "You can stay. May I ask why?"

He pulled back, metal hand gripping the bottles hard enough to break the plastic. He tried to breath his sniper breathing, slow enough to calm his erratic heart, and quieter than a ghost.

"It's. . . " he hesitated, before saying, "It's quiet in here. And calm."

_And God knew how long it had been since he last felt as calm as he did in this moment._

 

* * *

_[a month later]_

 

**SHE TRIED HARD NOT TO JUMP WHEN SHE SAW HIM.**

Valerie had just synthesized another batch of super serum and was beginning to extract them into vials for transportation when the Soldier materialized by the lab entrance, leaning on the metal frame of the door.

"Jesus. Hi." She shielded the vials away from his gaze subtilely. "What are you doing here?"

He gave a nonchalant half-shoulder shrug. "I have nothing to do." Then added, "and it’s quiet in here."

She blinked, hiding her surprise. Ever since last month when she took him to the lab to fix his wounded shoulder, he had – in a shocking move – asked to stay, saying he liked the quietness and calmness here. So she agreed, and they fell into silence, while she worked and he sat on a chair, contemplating about. . . stuffs. Then, an hour later, he left, and hadn't returned since. She thought it was a one time thing. Maybe getting shot stressed him out and he wanted some peace. But now, with him standing in front of the lab, reciting the same thing he'd said last time, Valerie was beginning to doubt whether if it was _just_ an anomaly or not.

He made an almost inaudible sigh that she wouldn’t have picked up outside of her quiet lab, and she realized she’d been stalling him for too long. Well, she didn’t want to piss off the most scariest assassin on the planet.

Plus, she’d like some company. One could only stare at sterile walls for so long before one became bitchy.

She pulled out an office chair and gestured him to it, smiling faintly. He seemed to get the message, walking over in that prowl of his and stopped before the chair. He obviously hadn’t expect for her to situate his seat near the window, with his back against the wall and every door and exits within eye-range.

She felt the need to explain. “After spending over a year at HYDRA, you tend to think like everyone you know is going to kill you. Having my back in the open air makes me uneasy, and I like to keep most of the room visible. Figured you’d think the same.”

His face shone with surprise, but he nodded and sat down nonetheless, managing to do so with trained grace.

Valerie felt like they just passed some sort of test. The one where she allowed him to sit behind her without having the urge to turn back and check every minute.

After a few moments of adjusting to each other’s presence, she shrugged and went back to work, pulling over a microscope with a sample already in place. Valerie didn’t feel the need to talk and drown out the silence, it was almost the same setting in his first visit. He was a sniper and a killer; he’d appreciate the quietness.

 

* * *

 

And that’s how it went for the next 2 weeks.

Everyday in the evening, on an almost random hour, he would just appear in front of the lab doors, glowering at the scientists there until she shooed them out and let him in.

The first few times, he at least had the audacity to looked questioningly at her, waiting for her nod before entering and seating on the same chair he did last time. For the next subsequent visits, he didn’t even bothered to check-in. Just waltzed right in the middle of her lab, almost ruining an experiment when a junior lab assistant shrieked when he came in.

After that almost-incident, Valerie had to retreat into her office for both privacy and safety reasons. She’d ordered people to direct him to her office should he come. Coincidentally, the number of people present at the lab in the evening, when he’d usually visit her, dwindled down to about zero.

Which left her alone, with HYDRA’s most elite assassin at her back, filling out papers regarding the serum. She kept the progress a secret, since if Pierce found out, he’d do everything to get his hands on the serum. Not that she’d let him.

“I have a new mission.”

She didn’t jump, but was quite sure her shoulders twitched. Setting down her pen, she turned around the office chair to look at him.

“Oh?”

He stared at her passively, though she was certain there was a flicker of warmthness in his gaze. It made her skin tingle, and sent heat rushing up her face. Then she recognized the situation she was in and snapped at herself, forcing her face into a blank expression.

“I think it’s why they moved us to Washington,” he said. It was the most the Soldier ever said in her presence. She counted it towards the _not-quite-friendship-but-whatever-they_ - _had_ meter.

“Huh.” Clearly he was trying at small-talk. She appreciated his attempt, but it was getting awkward enough that she turned back to stare at her reports. “Must be an important mission.”

“I need medical clearance.”

She stopped writing.  _Oh._

Made sense. It was SOP that an agent needed her clearance before going on any missions. Or after any major injuries, mentally and physically. He hadn’t been on any missions since Odessa, an oddity for HYDRA not to use their most effective weapon. Maybe evil organizations needed a break sometimes. She suddenly had an image of Pierce rocking on a hammock, staring out at a peaceful ocean.

Before a coconut fell and split his skull in half.

_Back to present, Hill._

She blinked. _Right._ Usually injuries older than six months needed a new health exam, but since she just cleared him less than a month ago with the shoulder incident, either someone was being an ass and wanted to piss him off or they had a bad calendar. Plus, due to his lack of missions the most exercise he ever did was walk between his cell to her lab. She doubt a simple stroll could cause any life-threatening injuries.

Staring back at him, she could see the fidgeting of his feet (a habit of his when there’s something in his mind. It’s one of the little things about him she picked up over the course of the last few months.) and the, likely unintentional, glowering he was directing at her poor desk. So he wasn’t looking forward to the health check either.

Valerie had no reason to put a man with a perfectly understandable dislike of exams through an unnecessary one. Maybe next time, she would, but she wasn’t dumb enough to test his already shortening patience.

Pulling out a new report and grabbing her pen, she stared back at him. “Does your shoulder hurt anymore? Any discomfort since we last met?”

“We met yesterday. For 3 hours.”

“Just answer the question, _soldat._ ”

She swore he was fighting to keep a smile off his face. “I feel fine.”

Filling out the paper with as much speed as she possessed, Valerie handed the form back to him with a smile of her own. “Here. Must be an important target if they wanted you onboard so quickly.”

He took the paper from her and stood up, staring at it intensely. Then he looked back at her. “That’s it?”

She folded her arms. “You didn’t look like you’re looking forward to the health exam. I thought I could save you the hassle.”

For a brief second, he looked troubled. “You don’t have to–”

“Hush.” She put up a finger. “A thank you would be enough.”

This time, he really did smile. For the first time. Who knew the Winter Soldier could smile? And a nice one at that.

She froze. Did she just think of him as _nice_? Granted he never hurt her since that time he shot her, but she never realized how quickly he’d tear her walls down in a matter of months. Thinking back, she never thought of how comfortable they were in each other’s presence, even if most of the time it was filled with silence. She let him sit at her back, something she did unintentionally, and now she had a feeling it was like having someone watching her six in a mission. She wondered, exactly when, did the Winter Soldier snuck himself into her _people-who-tolerate-me_ list.

“Thanks.”

Her head snapped up. She gave him a smile back. “Enjoy your mission.”

He nodded, set the chair aside, and left the lab.

Valerie waited a few more moments take make sure he’s gone before groaning to herself. She could never _ever_ ever think of him in the same way again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Bucky/Valerie moments for you guys. And yes, if some scenes seem familiar, go to the first chapter and read the author’s notes VERY CAREFULLY. That is all.
> 
> Edit: I just rewrote some parts of this chapter and chapter 6. Not much changed, just some more dialogue and sort-of banter between Valerie and Bucky. Also, better writing.


	6. turning point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Doctor," Pierce said simply. A single word that sent chills down her spine. "Do you know why you're here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for light torturing, implied deaths, non-graphic descriptions of violence.

* * *

_HYDRA base - Washington DC_ , April 2014

 

**from: _Vanessa_**

**to: Chrissy**

_maria,_

 

_ fury’s shot. i’m assigned to keep him alive, but had orders from Pierce not to.  _ _ warning that i will manually stop his heart via a neurotoxin to fake his death. tell this info to anyone on your team. maybe rogers and romanoff, idk. don't text this number again. pierce is monitoring all cellphones belonging HYDRA prisoners. i trust you can do the rest now that zola's out of the way. stay safe, don't die. _

_— v_

_p.s: if i'm not dead after you finish, find me in the bank a VA center_ _, down in the basement,_

_this is my last message to you._

 

 

* * *

 

**TURNS OUT, THE TARGET HE’D BEEN SENT AFTER WAS NONE OTHER THAN NICK FURY, THE INSTIGATOR OF THIS WHOLE WAR.**

She was in an ambulance, hands flying across the bloodstained body of him.

The sirens blared as they sped through downtown traffic, with S.H.I.E.L.D. cars flanking them to steer of media attention. She accompanied him as they lifted the gurney down the gangplank and pushed him through the emergency doors, while guards swarmed the hallway and clearing the area.

Then, she had reached the OR, hands bloodied and sticky, while the doctors took him to the table. She scrubbed and gowned herself, before joining the fray. Someone barked vitals to her and she responded, moving forward to take lead in the operation. The sight of Nick Fury almost lifeless startled her, how such powerful men could fall so easily, but she steeled herself. He needed her. She got to work.

"Scalpel," she snapped, taking it from an unknown nurse, and moved to examine his chest. He got shot three times, but only one bullet got stuck. The others went through and through. She'd stabilized him on the ambulance, but here she needed to get them out.

"Blood pressure?" she called, as a doctor rushed by with some blood bags.

"78 over 50 and dropping."

Shit. _Shit shit shit._

She made an incision over his chest, where the two bullets had struck, when a gush of blood poured out, making her jump back. "Fucking hell," she muttered. He had at least another half a liter in there, and he wouldn't last long with just that. "Scope." Taking the instrument, she inserted it into the cut and went searching for the internal bleeding, while her eyes were glued to the monitor, searching for signs of a ruptured vessel.

"Heart rate's over 140," someone warned.

_Not good_. His body was losing blood quicker than it could replenish, but she quickly found the leaking vessel. Someone took the scope from her hand as soon as the monitor displayed it and she got her scalpel back. She made a second incision over the vessel, and seconds later it was cauterized. After making sure there weren't any other bleeders, Valerie messed with the line connecting to the monitor, causing a flat line to appear.

"His heart's stopping!" she yelled, turning around. "I need epinephrine, 1 milligram!"

A doctor rushed by and pressed a vial in her hand. She quickly fixed it into a hypodermic needle and drove it straight into Fury's chest. There was a fine line between restarting a heart and overloading a brain's neural surge. It just so happened that the 'epinephrine' the doctor gave her was actually tetrodotoxin B, synthesized by Bruce Banner to prevent himself from transforming. It didn't work so well on him, so he gave it to S.H.I.E.L.D., and she being HYDRA's lead doctor meant she could get her hands on anything.

The toxin was used to slow down the heart. Slow enough to fool death.

A minute later, she administered a second fake shot, hidden behind the palm of her hand. If he got a second dose of neural toxin he would be dead. The line flattened on the monitor and she faked a shoulder slump. Everyone froze, then began to put away equipments and one announced the time of death.

_7 p.m, April 26, 2014._

They pulled the body on a gurney and pushed him away, leaving Valerie behind. She looked up to the observation room, where Rogers, Maria, Romanoff and two other HYDRA operatives stood watching. 

Maria was silently crying, her face red and her eyes puffy. _Wow, her sister was a damn good actress_. Rogers looked solemn and Romanoff was, surprisingly, on the same page as her sister. Rumlow stood behind them, looking bored, while Sitwell managed to pull off a _we-just-lost-someone-important_ face.

She gave them a brief nod before exiting the OR, hands still holding the tetrodotoxin vial.

Maria knew what to do. She'd explain everything to Fury, and maybe to Rogers and Romanoff too. She'd done her job.

Valerie walked outside and was surprised to be met by both Rumlow and Sitwell.

"Shame," Sitwell began, trying to look unbothered by her bloodied outfit. "Wished I got a hand on him before he died."

Valerie gave him a grin.

"Shame indeed," she agreed, and Rumlow grumbled something about mad scientists before leading them off to a HYDRA van and back to base.

 

* * *

_HYDRA base - Washington DC_ , April 2014

 

**ARNIM ZOLA WAS DEAD.**

The news hung over their head as Alexander Pierce voice's came to life over the intercom. Everyone in the lab stopped in their tracks and looked up, as if expecting Pierce's face to appear on the ceiling. Valerie pretended to freeze while switching samples, lifting her head in calculated slow motion.

"What?" she whispered quietly. Moores looked regretful and came over to pat her on the back, as a comfort gesture. All lab personals looked as if Pierce just announced their mothers were dead.

" _He died while trying to stall HYDRA's enemies from escaping. He died a valiant death,_ " Pierce had said.

The two 'enemies' mentioned must be Rogers and Romanoff. She couldn't think of anyone else, other than the Avengers, who can survive a ballistic missile in less than 30 seconds.

Valerie fought to keep a smile from spreading across her face, to keep the victorious laughter she'd held in for so long at bay. Instead, she kept her head low and tried to force some tears to fall. After all, a protege is supposed to mourn the death of her mentor, right?

Then, the announcement stopped, and everyone looked up. For a moment, they all just stood still to contemplate the news. Then, they straightened their postures and went to work, chatting and writing down statistics as if nothing happened at all. HYDRA was no place for the dead.

Valerie quickly spun around on her office chair to hide a grin that was impossible to stop. She couldn't believed whatever bullshit she told Zola months ago made him turn on Pierce, and in turn resulted in his death. Pierce just lost his foremost scientist, whether he knew what he did or not. It was like a weight lifted of her shoulder, a battle she just won.

She reached in her desk to pull out a vial filled with perfectly replicated super serum, sloshing inside with emerald-like colors. No one knew she'd finished recreating it, not even Pierce. Valerie grinned again before hiding it back in her desk. She couldn't help it.

 

* * *

_HYDRA base - Washington DC_ , April 2014

 

[ _a few days later_ ]

 

**"HILL?" AN AGENT POKED HIS HEAD IN HER LAB.**

She glanced up from paperworks. "Hm?"

He looked tense and fidgety, like he was expecting a fight. But she supposed every HYDRA agent felt that way. "Pierce demands your presence."

Her stomach dropped. Whenever Pierce wanted to talk to her, it was either bad news, or really _really_ bad news. A slew of irrational fearful questions raced through her had, but she forced them out and squared her shoulders.

"Where?"

"In the war room. You have 1 minute."

She sighed, pulling open the desk drawer and grabbing her sidearm. It wouldn't make a difference against Pierce if he had the STRIKE team with him, or the Soldier himself. But her lizard brain seemed hap to be armed rather than going in bare-handed.

Jogging down the hallway, Valerie was cursing at herself. Did she made any slips? Had he noticed her scheming with Maria? Was it about the serum's continuous delay?

Her mind finally shut up when she reached the war room, or as she liked to call it - the brainwashing room. As she'd predicted, he had the entire STRIKE team with him, but no Soldier in sight. _Huh_.

"You call for me, sir?"

Pierce turned around and stared at her blankly. He then glanced at his watch. "I believe I have. 40 seconds. Very nice, but no improvement."

Talking to Pierce was like chatting with a genius-level megalomaniac. Say something wrong or out of the blue and she'd be dead. Valerie smiled dryly. "I'd like to keep things how it should be."

His eyes flashed with interest in her answer, but he quickly hid it. "Report on the serum's progress," he said.

She steeled herself before replying, "We managed to extract the basis for the serum's characteristics that it'll imprint onto the subject, but haven't be able to find a compatible liquid to suspend it in."

Apparently, this wasn't the answer he was looking for. The little twitch on the corner of his mouth gave it away.

_Shit_. She could backtrack this. She had to.

"There is progress. My team– "

"Doctor," Pierce said simply. A single word that sent chills down her spine. "Do you know why you're here?"

_Fuck! It was one of those cryptic questions_. She was terrible with these.

"I assume the topic of the serum had dropped off long ago," she answered neutrally. That gained her a smirk from him.

"You're a brilliant woman, Valerie." She tried to keep herself in-control, now that he said her first name for the first time since she arrived at HYDRA. "But sometimes, being brilliant doesn't equate to being a good liar."

Her eyes widened. _Shit! He knew!_

Without hesitation, she pulled out her sidearm and aimed for him. A STRIKE agent moved in, the bullet striking him instead. Rumlow charged forward, knife in his hand. She was no match for him in physical combat, but she had speed to keep a distance between them. Firing two more shots that killed two more agents, she felt someone snatch her hand and snapped it backward.

Pain shot through her and she had to bite her lips to keep quiet. Rumlow vaulted towards her and brought cuffs on her hand, before taking her gun away. Collins, revealed to be the one holding her back, hauled her to her feet roughly. She was one-hundred percent sure her shoulder was broken.

Pierce strolled forward, his face displaying a sadistic smile.

"You know, for the longest time, I thought you were my most trustworthy asset. I gave you all the intel, allowed you unrestricted access in the base. And yet you turned out like Zola, a traitor two steps behind me."

She held her ground, looking up at him. "You know about Zola?"

He shrugged. "I know everything. I know that you turned Zola on me, made me kill him. I know you're intentionally delaying the serum's progress in hopes that I'll never get my hands on them. But I will."

She grinned, despite herself. "The last formula of the serum dated back to Zola, who's no longer with us. Shame you bit the bait."

"I was blinded by my faith on you," he admitted, then his face hardened. "Doesn't matter. The serum's finished, regardless of whatever you told me. You think I'm foolish enough not to have my own spies in your lab?"

She gritted her teeth at that jab. "Moores," she snarled. He nodded. "He told me everything. Where you hid the serum, how much you made already."

Then, without waiting for her comment, he turned around to face the remaining STRIKE agents. "Search the lab for the serum. Kill everyone involved, no witnesses."

Her heart stopped. There were other kidnapees like her in the lab. Prisoners. He was going to kill them all.

She lurched forward, wanting to stop him, but Collins yanked her back, jarring her broken shoulder terribly.

"And tell Vankov I have a special guest for him." Pierce fixed his eyes on her. "You will spend the rest of your days rotting in a HYDRA cell, regretting that you've betrayed me. And your friends, Hill? Rogers? Romanoff? They'll die too. All that effort for nothing."

"HYDRA will fall," she retorted. "Just like the Red Skull."

Pierce's face contorted in anger and he pointed at Rumlow. "Take her to her cell, and make sure Vankov's there. I expect her to be nothing but a bloodied corpse when he's done. After that, you're second unit should the Asset fails."

Her eyes could only widen in horror as the agents ran off to comply. Seconds later, a rattle of gunfire was heard and people screamed helplessly, slaughtered like animals. Rumlow dragged her out of the room, ignoring her kicks and jabs aimed at him, while Collins jogged to another room.

She didn't know why she was screaming. Her senses on overload. She'd fail. She failed Maria. Pierce was going to get the serum to experiment with more people and her sister was going to die under the hands of her only friend here.

When the screamings had stopped and the gunfire ceased, Valerie was thrown into a dirty cell. Rumlow smiled crookedly at her and slam the cell door shut.

Valerie curled into the corner of the room, breathing hard and fast. Her shoulder hurt like Hell but she couldn't bring herself to care. Maybe she deserved this, to be in this much pain. It was pure luck that Pierce only blew her cover after she did her job: killing Zola, saving Fury, and stalling the serum's research. Her breathing came a little bit easier after that, finding a sliver of hope. She'd done her job well. She paved the way for the good guys to bring HYDRA down.

At least, if she died, she'd die knowing that she tried to do good.

Her thoughts shattered when a familiar figure appeared behind the cell door. Her eyes widened in recognition. It was her kidnapper, the one who'd thrown her in all of this mess in the first place. _Vankov_.

His grin was terrifying. "Doctor. We're going to have so much fun."

And in a flash, he was before her, a knife pressed against her cheek.

"Pierce said you'd be a hard one to crack." He slowly dragged the blade across her skin, hard enough to draw blood. "Let's see how much pain you can take before you break."

And with that, he carved the dagger into her jaw, blade against bone. Her mind snapped at the sudden burst of excruciating pain. He continued wedging the blade into the cut, spreading open the wound and blood gushed out.

Valerie screamed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters 5 & 6 had been rewritten, since I wasn’t happy with them. The plot’s still the same, but there’s more Valerie/Bucky moments and a very short banter between the two.


	7. carve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierce sighed, pulling a chair over and sitting on it. "The doctor was a traitor, like Jasper Sitwell. She had been disposed and taken care of. However, you—" Pierce looked at him coldly. "—Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century. HYDRA had never been closer to bringing peace upon mankind as it is now. The traitors had tried but failed to tear us down, and you will be our fist to bring the New World the order it sorely needs."
> 
> He gave the Soldier a pointed look. "I need you to be that fist, one more time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! Another chapter! **WARNING** for non-graphic description of attempted sexual assault, gore  & violence. 
> 
> Read at your own risk.

* * *

_HYDRA base - Washington DC, April 2014_

 

 **_"BUCKY?"_ ** ****_  
_  
A single word. A name. Something that was frustratingly familiar and foreign at the same time. He knew that name, it brought back something in his head, like a memory trying to fight its way to the surface.  
  
The man on the bridge had said it, with shock and disbelief written across his face. The man on the bridge. . . the target. His target. But why did that word sounded so wrong when applied to him? He had a vague feeling he knew that man, the blonde with his shield. There was something between them, something lost to him that he wished he could uncover.  
  
The more the Soldier chased the rabbit down the hole, the more the images flashed across his eyes. At first, they were harmless and meaningless. Cars, vintage and old. A rundown neighborhood. A skinny blonde man with serious asthma issues. Then the flashbacks became more vivid. There were gunshots all around him, men shouting and dying. Then he was up in a high-speed train, with the same blonde man standing next to him.  
  
_Bucky! Nooooo!_  
  
He was falling, falling fast with no traction. Gravity gripped him and dragged him down. A train passed overhead, snow raining heavily on him as he fell. Someone was yelling out his name. He tried to scream, but his throat froze. And then he crashed into something, pain erupted from all over his body – especially in his left arm. He lost sensation over it immediately after, and his consciousness followed.  
  
_"Sergeant Barnes. The procedure had already started."_  
  
There was an old scientist staring at him. His mouth was moving but he couldn't hear a thing. There was blood on his left arm, and a blade sawing what remained of it. He could scream, but he was too transfixed in horror of what they had done to him. What they had made him become.  
  
The next time he opened his eyes, one of his arms were metal.  
  
He tried to kill one of the lab coats, but the old scientist came back and drugged him.  
  
_Put him on ice._  
  
There was a spike of dread when he felt the cold sink its teeth into him, inside the chamber. He didn't want to go back under. In the surge of panic, he lashed out with his mechanical arm and a pained grunt was heard. The sounds of guns clicking at his direction brought him out of his haze, and he realized he'd just attacked a doctor.  
  
"Sir," a voice reached him. "He's. . . he's unstable. Erratic."  
  
He lifted his head in time to see Pierce strode forward, motioning for his men to put their weapons down. He stared down at the Soldier in disdain, tucking his glasses inside his tux.  
  
"Mission report."  
  
_You are to be the new fist of HYDRA._  
  
Pierce's patience waned. "Mission report _now_ ."  
  
_Longing._  
  
_Rusted._  
  
_Furnace._  
  
Without warning, he felt something striking his face hard. The force pulled him out of his daze, the remnants of the memories clinging onto him in a nonsensical way. He was still seeing snow and blood, but it was starting to fade away, the scene replaced with the familiar setting of the bank and guards surrounding him. But despite the reality of it all, the image of the blonde man stuck with him.  
  
_Bucky?_  
  
He lifted his head, meeting Pierce's eyes. "The man on the bridge. . . Who was he?"  
  
A flicker of fear flashed across Pierce's face, but the HYDRA leader masked it effortlessly. "You met him earlier this week on another assignment," he said easily.  
  
He frowned. If that was the case, then why did he had a feeling he'd known this man his whole life?  
  
"I knew him," he said with absolute certainty, because throughout his life of drifting between the realms of reality and dreams, there was always the thread of remembrance that took the form of that man. And he could not let that go. It was part of the little things he had left, this and the doctor and her quiet lab.  
  
"The doctor. . . " It was just now he realized she was nowhere to be found. Usually by now she would be here, by Pierce's side, monitoring his vitals and checking him for injuries. Where was she?  
  
Pierce sighed, pulling a chair over and sitting on it. "The doctor was a traitor, like Jasper Sitwell. She had been disposed and taken care of. However, you—" Pierce looked at him coldly. "—Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century. HYDRA had never been closer to bringing peace upon mankind as it is now. The traitors had tried but failed to tear us down, and you will be our fist to bring the New World the order it sorely needs."  
  
He gave the Soldier a pointed look. "I need you to be that fist, one more time."  
  
He suddenly had the sinking feeling of knowing where this conversation would lead. But he was so close to knowing who that man was, the protective feeling surging in his chest at the mention of the blonde and the Doctor. He couldn't let Pierce take that away from him too.  
  
He knew what this was; he was _feeling_ . He wanted to beg Pierce, to kill him if he needed to, just let him keep this memory. Memories of the Doctor, of her soft hands and softer smiles. Of her serene eyes even in the face of danger. Of the warm touches she gave him whenever he had a panic attack, of the sharp words she gave the agents who'd beaten him – even when he knew he deserved it.  
  
It was seldom that the Soldier attached himself to something, the knowledge that that something would be torn away from him kept him from emotions, from basic human needs. But he couldn’t help feel safe and protective around the only person who actually treated him like a goddamn human being in HYDRA.

And now, there was another figure in his head. The blonde. The one who made him remember all those vivid images. He never thought of the day he'd be _afraid_ , of all things, of the prospect of never knowing who she was again. Who the blonde man was.  
  
"Society's at a tipping point between order and chaos. And tomorrow morning, we're gonna give it a push." Pierce was still monologuing. "But, if you don't do your part, I can't do mine. The HYDRA can't give the world the freedom it deserves."  
  
Those words flew past the Soldier's head meaninglessly. He didn't care, he didn't want to do his part. He wanted to know, to get to _keep_ at least a part of his life. It was a price he wasn't willing to pay.  
  
"But I knew them. The doctor. The man."  
  
Pierce gave a disappointed sign and stood up abruptly.  
  
No.  
  
"Prep him."  
  
_No_.  
  
One of the doctors glanced at him warily. "He'd been out of cryo-freeze for too long."  
  
He'd stiffened, knowing the awful pain that would come after. They were taking away the last things he had.  
  
Pierce gave him a look that said _you-had-your-chance_ , mouth pressed into a grim line. "Then wipe him and start over."  
  
He could've fought them. He could've lashed out and killed them. But even if he managed stand, Pierce would have the guards shoot him before he could even move. It was hopeless. He was going to lose touch with the blonde. With _her_ . The realization of it all made him numb and cold. The kind of despair that felt better if you drown rather than resist. So he stopped fighting, and went slack against the chair. The very machine that took everything away from him.  
  
And when it whirled to life, and he felt plastic pushed in his mouth, feeling the metal cuffs restraining him, he welcomed the voltage of pain erasing away what he'd become for the last year.  
  
His throat was raw from all the screaming, and his mind went completely blank.

 

* * *

_HYDRA base - Washington DC, April 2014_

**SHE DIDN'T KNOW HOW LONG SHE’D SPENT SCREAMING AND CRYING.**

Her head was a blur of pain. Just pain. It was all she could feel, all she knew. She felt every struck of the knife, every blood drawn, every inch of her skin scored and stretched open, because this was _her body_ and he was carving her inside out. And it drove her _insane_.

“You– _are–too–loud_ ,” Vankov, the fucking maniac, punctuated each word with a stab to her thigh. It slashed her jeans and revealed a bloody mess underneath. Valerie cried out loud, sobbing, trying in vain to push him off her but he kept coming back.

Sounds of seams tearing reached her and she saw him sliced across her lab coat, now in tatters and stained with dirt. He lunged forward, hastily throwing away the clothe and in an instant she knew what he was doing. Valerie desperately tried to get him off: kicking, pushing, screaming for help, but nobody came because it was HYDRA and she got herself into this mess and it was _all her fault because she failed and she deserved this–_

He growled against her ears, his hand rose to grab her breast and gave it a rough squeeze, the other hand fumbling with the fly of his pants. The horror of the situation made her freeze, unable to accept what was happening. Because this was _not_ happening. No, no _no no NO!_ She scrambled back, not caring if her arms were bleeding and begging for rest, trying her best to keep as much distance between her and Vankov as possible.

“Stop moving,” he growled against her skin, “or I’ll cut your pretty face out.”

He grabbed her ankle and hauled her back, taking the knife before trying to cut her jeans off. She bit her lips to keep a scream from escaping as the cold blade pressed against her hips dragged further down the length of her thigh. Pain shot through her like a bullet, but not in a clean way. It was jagged, and drawn-out and absolutely _agonizing._

“Keep on screaming.” She bit her lips to keep from crying out as he ravaged her breast. “No one will hear you.”

Vankov crawled onto her hungrily, placing a sloppy kiss on her neck. She felt the sudden urge to either punch the fuck out of his face or vomit, but was too drained of energy to even muster a weak gasp. She could feel what was happening, nausea overwhelming her. But, in the haze of pain and disgust, a flash of metal caught her eyes.

His pants, now dropped to his knees, had a gun on its belt.

_Oh._

It got the gears in her head turning. She could use this to her advantage. Vankov was too occupied sinking his teeth into every inch of her skin he could reach, and while his vile mouth churned her stomach in the worst ways possible, she needed to concentrate on this one chance she had against him. Holding back tears from all the pain and humiliation she was feeling, Valerie forced herself to move. She slid downwards, positioning her knee below his groin. He gripped her shoulders forcefully, hard enough to leave bruises, but she was so close to the gun. Then, she felt the cool metal of the firearm brushed against her fingers.

_It’s now or never._

On the count of three, she kneed him with a force enough to crush his manhood. He gave a cry of pain as she rolled herself over and barely caught the gun between her fingers.

Kicking him in the chest, she used it as leverage and jumped to her feet. Vankov cursed and reached for the knife, but she shot his hand before he could even touch it. He howled in pain, turning towards her with blazing eyes, but Valerie forced herself not to panic and aimed for his forehead.

“You bi– ”

The bullet went straight through his skull and bounced harmlessly against the wall behind him.

His eyes were wide and full of shock and rage, but they were lifeless. A trail of blood leaked from where the bullet had entered, and he slumped onto the floor like a marionette cut off its strings.

She didn’t have time for a victory dance. Her sister was in danger and she needed to get out of this cell before she could help her. Valerie hopped over the corpse beneath her and gathered her lab coat. It was worse for wear, almost falling apart, but having something to cover herself with gave her some sense of control over the situation.

She wrapped the long coat over her, welcoming the fabric against her bleeding skin. Then, she bent down to collect the cell key from Vankov’s body and jammed it against the lock. Seconds later, the door swung open and she stepped out with a breath of relief.

Valerie spared the pathetic man one last glance, savoring the sight, before turning away. She had her moment, now she needed to move. All around her, the siren was wailing. It was likely HYDRA had taken a hit, so Maria was possibly alive after all. She gave the corridor before her a scan. There was no one coming down to get Vankov or her. So this meant Pierce was evacuating every HYDRA agent he had left.

She ran across the empty space, a sense of dread brewing in her stomach. Moving just reminded her how much pain she was in right now, but she didn’t have time to rest.

The lab appeared right before her, littered with dead bodies. She resisted the urge to vomit and ran inside. If she was lucky, Pierce hadn’t taken the serum at all, but the chances of that happening were slim. She ran towards her desk, entering the passcode for the drawer she hid her creations in. It opened with a hiss, and the sight of a rack of super serum greeted her.

She had never felt so relieved before. Moores and the other HYDRA agents must’ve been stupid enough to believe the fake serum she hid on the shelf. Valerie quickly searched around and found a suitcase, perfect for storing the rack of serum-filled vials.

While carefully lowering the rack of serums into the suitcase, she heard sounds of footsteps and abruptly turned around, shielding the rack of serum behind her.

A familiar figure stood at the lab’s entrance, water dripping from his tac gear, a nasty gash on his cheek. He was holding his right arm protectively behind his metal one, and was staring at her in a mixture of shock and relief.

“ _Soldat_ ,” she breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone rooted for Valerie to blast that creep’s brain into bits? ‘Cause I did.


	8. bloodstain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who was I?” He’d wanted to ask that question for so long. He wanted answers, something that he could never do in the past. “Who was Bucky?” he asked her in a desperate voice, hoping she’d understand.
> 
> She turned to look at him, now holding the handle of a suitcase. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky like you just said. He was a good man.”

* * *

_HYDRA base - Washington DC, April 2014_

 

 **THE SOLDIER HAD SAVED THE MAN** on the bridge.

Just minutes before, they had been fighting. Well, he’d been punching the Hell out of the blonde. It was all the pain, the anger and the sheer overwhelming feeling he had, from the past week, and an emptiness in his chest that he ached to know why it was there, all fueling his anger and pain and all he could do was fight.

Maybe that ache was why he couldn’t bring himself to kill the blonde. Sure, he’d watched the man fell into the Potomac and watched as the waves consumed his drowning figure, but he dove after him and dragged his half-dead body onto shore.

He’d contemplate why he saved that man later. Now, his head was heavy with questions he had no answers to and a sense of hollowness that he couldn’t push away. So he stumbled back to base, the only place he knew. It was instinctive, a rule beaten into him so many times before, but he could never remember any instant that someone told him such rules. But in his state of mind right now, he couldn’t remember anything, and the burning desire to get answers from his own creators took the forefront of his mind.

The walk back to base was long, wet, and painful. He kept in the shadows and avoid crowds, which was easy seeing how they were more interested in getting away from the flying Helicarriers now crashing into the Potomac below, and soon enough the base loomed over him.

The front doors were unmanned, but there were 2 guards inside which he quickly disposed of. Instincts drove him forward to where the lab was. For some reasons, he knew it would be quiet there. He knew _she_ would be there, whoever she was. Despite the mess his head was in right now, the absolute certainty that she was there, waiting with her clipboards and charts, somehow acted as the driving force he needed to make the final step towards the lab.

He never felt so relieved in his life to see her there, to know at least something from his memories was still real. But the state she was in sent a surge of protectiveness, for some reasons he couldn’t quite articulate, surging through him.

She looked like she’d been from Hell and back. Her face was bloodied and her jaw was bleeding from a cut. She was holding a lab coat over her frame, and he doubt she was wearing anything underneath. Blood trickled to the floor, collecting into a puddle underneath her feet.

“ _Soldat?_ ” She’d said, sounding both consoled and scared at the same time. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitated, not knowing how to answer her question.

“What happened?” he asked instead, mentally bracing himself for pain. But it never came. Her eyes just softened for a fraction of a second before hardening once more, like she was expecting him to attack her. He had the sudden impulse to reach out and assure her he’d never do that.

“HYDRA fell. I was. . . attacked, but I’m fine now.” She shook her head. “You shouldn’t be here. You’re free. There’s no one in this base anymore. I think if you want to leave, now would be a good time.”

He knew it was coming, but the confirmation that he was free, that HYDRA was gone only sent fear and relief through him. He tried not to let it show, but the doctor must’ve noticed as she looked perplexed for a second.

“I failed to kill the target,” he said it like a mission report, because it was the only thing he knew how to do.

“Pierce is dead.” She turned around and slammed something shut. “You can go, there’s nothing here for you. Just. . . Mission reports are a thing of the past, _soldat_.”

“Who was I?” He’d wanted to ask that question for so long. He wanted answers, something that he could never do in the past. “Who was Bucky?” he asked her in a desperate voice, hoping she’d understand.

She turned to look at him, now holding the handle of a suitcase. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky like you just said. He was a good man.”

 _James Buchanan Barnes_. He was James Barnes. Bucky. He was someone before all of this. Someone good. He was a goddamn _person_. But now that person seemed like someone else, far more different than who he was now. He didn’t know where to go. A path had just opened before him but he had no idea where to start.

He could go. Escape, like she told him to. But what would he do? What use would people have of a purposeless weapon?

“I don’t have a mission,” he said again. Something akin to sadness flashed over her eyes, but she hid it and looked over his shoulder critically.

“It’s dislocated. You want me to reset it?”

Now that she mentioned it, he never realized he was injured during the fight. The adrenaline rush had wore off and left him in a state of pain and soreness. His shoulder hurt like Hell and he was certain his mechanical arm was malfunctioning. Looking at her, the one who made him go back in the first place, he gave a small nod.

She set down her suitcase and walked over slowly, as if to make sure he knew which way she was approaching. Her finger were cool to the touch, but it soothed him far more than he imagined. Flashes of a kind doctor appeared before him, her giving him some food, her snapping at guards, standing between him and the men as if she could shield him from the volley of bullets. It made his chest tightened, in a good way, but the feeling was quickly replaced by a flare of pain.

He grunted, looking up just as she stepped away and nodded. He then noticed his shoulder felt far better than it had before, and gave it an experimental roll.

_No pain._

She smiled at him and walked towards the doors, suitcase in hand, her lab coat crimson red near the waist and below. A trail of blood followed her every steps. She was not going to make it to the front gates in this state.

He looked back at the lab, seeing its abandoned equipments and dead bodies littered throughout. Then back at her. She was leaving, and it sent a shot of panic through him. If she left now, she would die of blood loss and he’d be alone, with no sense of purpose and nowhere to go.

Maybe he’d go after the men who made him into this weaponized body, but he needed her to know exactly who he was avenging.

“I don’t know where to go,” he said. She froze, but didn’t turn back. He heard a thump and saw her collapse to the ground, blood pooling from her head.

Something akin to fear surged through him and he crossed the room to reach her. She was his only answer, his sole purpose for why he returned, the one grounding him to reality. He couldn’t let her go.

She was panting hard, trying to get up on her elbows, but the movement caused her to gasp in pain.

“Shit,” she muttered. “ _Shit._ ”

He hesitated, not knowing what to do. “You’re bleeding.”

She groaned, rolling over so that her face wasn’t on the ground. “No shit Sherlock.”

It was mad to say he felt hurt seeing her like this, but it described his current emotion perfectly.

He didn’t know what he was doing, but his arms came around her shoulder and waist to lift her up. She froze at the contact, her breathing becoming more intense, her eyes filled with fear. He almost dropped her when she squirmed against him, but kept his hold on her. She breathed slowly, like she was trying to force down whatever fear that’s consuming her. His fingers were sticky from the blood around her waist, while her breathing become more shallow by the second.

He didn’t have to be an expert to see that her body was going in shock due to extreme blood loss.

“Hold my legs. . . higher than. . . my head,” she panted out, shivering. He obeyed, placing her lower body over his metal arm while dipping her head at the same time. She closed her eyes like she could will the pain to go away.

“I need a mission,” he said quietly, the same sense of hopelessness filling him.

“Fuck,” she muttered, eyes still closed. “I have a rescue squad coming in soon.” She opened her eyes and sighed deeply. “You want to come with me?”

He nodded enthusiastically, happy that he finally had some reason not to stay. She let her head loll over his arm, her breathing becoming quieter by the second.

“Get to the. . . main gates. They. . . will meet us. . . there. If t-they ask, tell them I sent you.”

He bent to take her suitcase and began walking. It never strike him that he never knew what her name was, despite the familiarity she exuded. “What should I call you?”

“Valerie.” Her voice was small and weak. “Valerie Hill.”

He nodded in reply, cradling her against his chest.

The walk to the gates was a short and intense one. She was paler than before and her skin was almost cold to the touch. Blood stained his arms and tac suit, but he kept himself moving in hopes that the rescue team would be there. It was almost like an escort mission, and she was the target. At least, then he knew what to do. _Protect the target at all cost, made sure they reach the extraction point._

There were a group of armed people at the gates, and he fought of the urge to kill them and run away. Instead, he used the sound of her breathing to ground him to reality. She was hurt. These people could help her.

“Shit,” a female shouted, and in an instant they all had their guns trained on him. He froze, but reminded himself that these people were allies.

The woman, possibly the leader of the group, moved closer cautiously. She resembled the doctor bleeding out in his arms, but older and more dangerous.

“Valerie?” she whispered, looking past his metal arm to see the face of her. He unconsciously pressed her closer to him, afraid she would take the doctor away. The female aimed the gun on his forehead with a frightened look.

“What did you do to her?” she demanded.

He could taste the fear laced in her tone, the anger radiating from her presence. His training was screaming for him to attack her, to protect the target, but he forced it down. This woman was clearly concerned about Valerie, a worry in her eyes only present in people who’d fought with each other for years. This was the eyes of someone willing to raze the Earth, just to made sure her comrade was safe. He suddenly felt a pang in his chest. He once had this. . . connection with someone, a past figure that yearned to surface in his memories, but couldn’t remember who for the life of his. He stared back at the woman, seeing the tenseness in her calm exterior. A new found sympathy for her rose inside him.

“She told me to meet her rescue team here,” he said quietly. The female seemed conflicted, her eyes flickering to his metal arm, and back to his face. Then, she reached to touch her ear.

“Coulson, Valerie’s immobile and injured. She’s with a potential hostile, but he has the suitcase. Do we take them?”

Whatever the other person told her over the earpiece made her grimaced, but lowered her gun. She motioned for the rest of her team to do the same, still eyeing him cautiously.

“What’s your name?”

This time, he didn’t hesitate. “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Shock flickered across her face, the same could be said to everyone else, as silence reigned. Then, she made a frustrated noise and went over to check the doctor’s pulse. He didn’t flinch as she approached, reminding himself that she’s here to help.

“She’s alive. Let’s go.” She then turned back to look at him. “You’re a friend of hers, correct?”

He nodded.

“Then come. There’s someone waiting for you, James.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are random and inconsistent. Don’t judge. My life is random and inconsistent as well.
> 
> Edit | I’m currently on holiday (it’s summer so no school) so I won’t be updating for the next 3-4 days.


	9. trustworthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valerie rubbed her forehead in exasperation. They were putting a tortured, brainwashed former assassin suffering decades of brutal conditioning, under a stress test that would mimic what it’d be like in a normal HYDRA health check, that may or may not cause him to react unpredictably.
> 
> She pinched the bridge of her nose.  
>    
>  _This was going well._

* * *

_Quinjet - Washington DC, April 2014_

 

 **MARIA HILL WAS NOT A WOMAN WHO’D** show fear in the face of a potential enemy.

She was an accomplished agent – one who’d lie and kill without even blinking – and a good one at that. She’d lead countless dangerous missions, seen men fall like reaped wheats on a field, risked her _life_ just to complete an assignment, but never have she ever in her life felt so utterly and hopelessly _helpless_ before. There were times – sure – that she’d come close to this, still _nothing_ compared to now: watching her sister’s battered body, wrapped in a crimson, bloodstained lab coat, held delicately between the arms of possibly the most intimidating man she’d ever met. And that’s counting Fury.

 _Not the time to have a mental breakdown, Hill_ , she grimly reminded herself.

They were heading to the Quinjet parked on a landing pad nearby. The man carrying her sister was in the middle of their group, an arrangement she intentionally created (he couldn’t bail out if he tried), almost prowling as they head towards the jet. It was a tense, thankfully short walk, but Maria used her time to observe and assess their new companion.

He was well over 6 feet tall, built like a wrestler, yet he possessed a rare, vicious agility that few others had to go with their muscular physique. She guessed he was a killer of some kind, maybe a mercenary-for-hire, or an assassin. Whatever he was, the fact that he was found cradling her sister against his chest inside a HYDRA base only served to antagonize him even more. Not to mention the outfit he had on. A tac gear, likely bullet-resistant, with straps across the shoulders and chest that resembled a straight jacket. It was as if the suit was designed to both protect and restrain him, a peculiar combination in her opinion.

Of course, there was the matter of the metal prosthetic taking the place of his left arm. The mechanical plates of the arm shifted and lapsed over each other as he moved, almost seamlessly like muscles would in a normal human arm. On his shoulder sat a bright red star.

 _Soviets,_ thought Maria as she weaved through the group to climb on the gangplank into the jet’s belly. Her agents fanned out around her, either seating themselves or checking the Quinjet before take off. She ignored that, walking towards the unknown asset of the group, and held out her hands.

When he saw her, he frowned and held her sister closer to his chest, as if afraid she was stealing her away from him.

_Well, that was the plan._

“If you’re going to help, at least cooperate with me here. She’s hurt and you won’t magically heal her by just holding her in your arms,” said Maria in a clipped tone. She found it easier to distance herself from the situation when staring as her sister bled out.

He hesitated for a beat, before sticking out his arms in her direction and (surprisingly) gently laid Valerie into her chest. The blood was dried and sticky, but Maria managed to get her into a comfortable position so as not to cause her any further pain.

She was about to walk away when something struck her. “Oh,” she called. “And I need the suitcase as well.”

He didn’t even blink when giving her the case, a contrast to when he seemed worried while giving Valerie to her. _Huh._

She got an agent to help her move Valerie onto a gurney, before sitting herself, with the suitcase between her legs.

The man looked around, obviously uncomfortable, but as the jet roared to life and launched into the air, he finally sank into the remaining seat gracelessly. His posture exuded tiredness and seconds later he tipped his head against the walls of the jet, eyes closed.

She arched an eyebrow in surprise. It was one thing to be a potential assassin working for HYDRA, but another to sleep – without caution – in a jet filled with former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Though perhaps her expectations of him had already been subverted when he expressed actual concern for her sister’s wellbeing.

“Agent Hill?” A voice called for her.

She turned her head. “What is it?”

The man held out his phone. “It’s Sam Wilson. They found the Captain on the Potomac shore.”

She cursed inwardly, spared her sister one last glance before moving forward, snatching the phone away. The screen displayed a picture of a very fucked up Steve Rogers.

“Christ, he looked like Hell.” Rogers was bloodied, beaten and in very bad shapes. She could spot three bullet entrances, and a Hell of a concussion.

The agent nodded. “He’s being transported to the nearest hospital, but I fear the he’s going to have to wait before medical care reaches him.”

Her eyes snapped upwards in a fury. “This is Captain-fucking-America. They can’t just make him wait, he’s going to die!” She rubbed her forehead. “Is there nothing we can do?”

He shook his head. “ ‘fraid not ma’am. Washington’s in a crisis after you crashed the Helicarriers. Not everyone will want to make way for Steve Rogers, Captain America or not. Best we can do is wait.”

She ground her teeth, barely containing her frustration. In the corner of her eye, she saw the man blinked awake at the mention of Steve.

_Not asleep after all, are you?_

She turned her attention back to the agent.

“If this is the case of Steve, then what about the doctor?” She jerked her chin at Valerie’s direction, where she lied motionless as agents swarmed by, checking her vitals and cleaning blood from her body. The agent followed her gesture, before looking back.

“Doctor Hill will receive special medical attention in the Stark Tower,” he said primly. “Captain Rogers was found too late. He wouldn’t have made it to the Tower in time.

She cursed, glancing down at the suitcase tucked beneath her, and then to her hands, coated in Valerie’s blood.

“Let’s hope we make it in time then,” she said in a low tone, eyeing her sister on the gurney. Her stomach churned unpleasantly.

 

* * *

_Stark Tower - NYC, April 2014_

 

**“WE’RE LOSING HER–”**

 

* * *

 

“BP’s 76 over 43 and dropping–”

 

* * *

 

“Heartbeat’s over 140–”

 

* * *

 

“Defibrillator now!”

“One, two, three, clear!”

 

* * *

 

“BP stable! Set up blood transfusion. . .”

 

* * *

_[a few hours later]_

 

**IT WAS LIKE FLOATING THROUGH THE VOID OF SPACE.**

You couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t dream, couldn’t even muster up enough energy to conjure a single thought. It was a strange, weary experience that was hard to put a ring to. But while your mind is struggling to wake up, your body’s already starting to function.

Sound was the first thing that came to her. A soft _beep_ every second or so. Then, the sound of mattress creaking. Footsteps. She thought she heard papers flipping, like someone was. . .

_Reading._

Her eyes opened slowly. A blurry image of a woman came to mind, but despite the terrible quality, there was no mistaking the dark-haired stoic-posed person beside her.

She cracked a weak smile.

“Maria.”

Her voice was scratchy and hoarse and sounded awful, but somehow her sister made out the word and turned around sharply. The stern brunette opened and closed her mouth a few times, before managing a small, tired smile.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hi yourself.”

Maria bent down to kiss her forehead. “Thought I lost you there. Gave me a bad scare.”

“Then you’d be the sole surviving member of the Hill family,” Valerie said dryly. “So a good scare then.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Barely a minute into the waking world and already turning up your snark level.” She took Valerie’s hand in hers, running her thumb over the IV tube hooked in her wrist. “The doctor said you’ll need to stay here for the rest of the week. Your body’s healing. . . but it’ll take time.”

She tried to lift her head, but Maria quickly pressed her down with a glare. “Don’t you dare. If your stitches tear, I’m going to kill you myself.”

“Always the charmer,” she said. “How long was I–”

“A day. Maybe two.” Maria rubbed her eye tiredly. “It gets vague.”

She stared at her sister for a full second. “Christ, how long have you been in here?”

“More than you’d allow me to.”

“For fuck’s sake Maria, stop trying to kill yourself while watching me not kill myself.”

Maria’s look turned into a Look. “I’m fine. What’s not fine is you. From what the nurses told me, you’ve managed a broken rib, torn cartilage on the left knee, a broken ankle that healed badly, sprained risks, hairline fracture on the radius, a fucked up jaw, bruised tissues, and a fucking bullet scar on your stomach.”

Steams were practically coming out of Maria’s ears.

“What in the bloody fuck did HYDRA do to you?” She damn near growled. Valerie tried not to flinch. _Tried_.

“What HYDRA all did to us,” she muttered. Maria narrowed her eyes, staring at Valerie so intensely as if she could will her scars to fade away.

“And look where you ended up.”

“To be honest, it’s nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, I did it so you could take HYDRA down. It’s for a good cause,” she reasoned.

Maria shook her head at that. “As long as you don’t keep up your self-sacrificing tendencies. Speaking of which–” She leaned in, close enough so Valerie could make out the blue in her eyes. “–when I came to get you, there was a man. . .”

_Oh._

“. . . Carrying you _and_ the suitcase. Rogers recognized him as his best friend, Bucky Barnes.”

_Oh no._

“Romanoff knew him as the Asset.” At this, Maria’s eyes sharpened. “The Winter Soldier.”

Christ. Even her sister thought she‘d gone mad for associating herself with the Soldier, who was the only one to ever treated her like a human being and as a friend, even if he did shot her (Pierce’s order).

“He’s not a threat,” she tried.

“He shot Fury.”

“While being mind-controlled by HYDRA into doing so.”

“Why are you defending him?” Maria shouted, nearly jumping off her chair. Never had Valerie seen her sister so close to a mental breakdown before.

“He was tortured,” she said quietly. “And abused, like me. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Maria said. “Stark’s got him on house arrest. He’s not going anywhere.”

Oh. _Great_.

“What are you doing now?” said Valerie in a low tone, enough to warn her sister to think before answering.

Apparently, Maria paid her no mind, as she said, “Fury ordered psychological evaluation on him, to make sure he’s not a threat.”

Valerie groaned. “You’re putting him in a stress test?”

She earned another Look from her sister. “A necessary one,” Maria said sternly. “I know what you’re thinking of; and no, you can’t leave this bed until the doctor allows it–”

“–I _am_ a doctor!”

Her protest was ignored. “–And also no, no matter whatever bonds you two formed under the roof of HYDRA, Fury deemed you compromised so you can’t go anywhere near him for the next 24 hours.”

“Wasn’t planning to anyways,” she muttered darkly. Maria shook her head and stood to leave the infirmary.

Valerie rubbed her forehead in exasperation. They were putting a tortured, brainwashed former assassin suffering decades of brutal conditioning, under a stress test that would mimic what it’d be like in a normal HYDRA health check, that may or may not cause him to react unpredictably.

She pinched the bridge of her nose.

_This was going well._


	10. isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly, his eyes had a wistful, almost sad look to them. “James Buchanan Barnes.”
> 
> Valerie had a hunch he was still struggling to say it on his tongue. The thought of someone stumbling over their own name, after knowing it for the first time in 70 years, was a thought she didn’t like to dwell on.
> 
> “Strange. I almost got used to calling you _soldat_ now,” she said. “Do you want to keep it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies, and sorry for this very _very_ delayed update. I actually had no idea where the plot was going so had to put down my pen and think for a while. Rest assure, I won’t be on another unexpected hiatus for a while. Enjoy this chapter!

* * *

_Stark Tower – NYC, April 2014_

  
**MARIA VISITED HER FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK.** ****  
  
None of the Avengers, or anyone else for that matter, bothered to drop by her bed. Not that she cared, but still – it was. . . discouraging. The doctors were a constant annoyance, both at their non-existence sense of personal space and their laughable efficiency, while she could at least tolerate the nurses. Her injuries had heal, but no one in the medical field allowed her to leave.  
  
Apparently, Maria thought she was a glass doll, ready to break any moment. She couldn’t even move to grab her food without Maria fussing over her like a complete mother hen. Fussing, she hated, but her self-control was enough to reign in her frustration at her sister.  
  
So spiralled her thoughts, unrefined and concerned, yet she was reduced to staring at the darkening skies while contemplating on how she could escape. She poked at the miserable grey heap of goo that was her dinner, before gathering enough courage to actually eat it.  
  
_Christ_ , she grimaced. _Do they use distilled depression as a seasoning?_  
  
But, as awful and angry she was feeling, her doctor training insisted she kept on eating, or else suffer the consequences.  
  
“Right, Hill,” she muttered to herself. “You’re a 32-year old doctor that survived HYDRA and killed your rapist. You can eat this shitshow. _You can do it._ ”  
  
With that, she picked up the spoon again and scooped a sizable amount of goo.  
  
If someone had told her in 10 years time she’d had to pep talk herself into eating a bowl of soup, she’d probably laugh in their face before scrutinizing them. But now, it didn’t seem all too far-fetched.  
  
“Ah, doc,” a pleasant voice reached her. She turned around sharply as a man walked towards her. It might be deliberate, in the way he approached her slowly, so she could see him coming.  
  
Upon closer look, she thought he seemed friendly enough. A middle-aged, balding, kind-eyed but with an underlying steel, easy smiling guy in a vest. She didn’t see any harm in greeting him.  
  
“Agent Phil Coulson, at your service.” He extended his hand at her. She responded in kind.  
  
“Valerie Hill.”  
  
Coulson smiled again before taking a seat beside her bed. She stared at him hard, trying to read him, but he was keen on leaving her at loose ends. _Well, two can play that game._  
  
Silence stretched between them. Long enough for it to become uncomfortable. Valerie wasn’t the type of person to break the ice, so she was content on staying quiet until either he left or talked himself. Leaning back, she grabbed the bowl of soup and continued eating it, ignoring her stomach’s protests.  
  
“You know, I never knew you were taken by HYDRA,” Coulson suddenly said. She just hummed in reply, not bothering to look at him. “I’ve heard rumors of course, from the lower agents, but I always thought you’re either a myth or a very unfortunate person.”  
  
“Glad my reputation precedes me,” she commented dryly. Her soup was beginning to turn a shade of grey that made her stomach queasy.  
  
“Were you aware of the situation you were in?”  
  
She cocked her head. “What kind of question is that?”  
  
He drew back. “I mean, were you aware of HYDRA then? And the Winter Soldier?”  
  
_Well dipshit, my sister works for S.H.I.E.L.D. How could I not?_  
  
“I wasn’t aware of the Soldier, but HYDRA, yes.”  
  
Coulson stared at her for a while. She didn’t look at him, but the weight of his stare was making her uncomfortable.  
  
“And how did you familiarize yourself to the Soldier?”  
  
At that, her head shot up to meet his eyes. “What?”  
  
He tilted his head in a manner that was oddly curious. “When Hill’s team was dispatched to extract you from HYDRA, she saw you in the arms of the Soldier. Carrying you and the suitcase. I don’t know much about him, but enough to know he wouldn’t just carry some lab coats around unarmed. Less hand them over willingly.”  
  
To be honest, she didn’t ever recall seeing him hand her over to Maria at the rendezvous point. She did remember being carried by him through the base, blood seeping from her skin like a torrent and fear choking her throat. Being snuggled against the firmness of his chest did soothe her somewhat, knowing no one was stupid enough to attack the Soldier (even when weaponless) made her safe, but she was 100% she passed out midway to the front gates.  
  
But no way in seven Hells was Valerie ever going to tell him about their friendship (co-workers? Platonic relationship? _Kinship_ ? The last one probably.) back in HYDRA. Privacy was a luxury she couldn’t have under Pierce and she wasn’t about to hand it over to some dressed up, kind-faced agent. Even if he did order her rescue.  
  
So, she tossed him a cool look that indicated nothing good would ever come out of this conversation. He got the message, apparently (her bitch-face was starting to work), and looked away. She had a sinking feeling this would come bite her back some day in the near future.  
  
Coulson reached to take something behind her, and she turned to follow his hand. A second later, he pulled back, revealing a picture of her and Maria standing side-by-side.  
  
“When Fury was shot, I was called to oversee his operation. I didn’t come, there were more. . . pressing tasks in my hands, but I did ask for updates after the procedure.” At this, his eyes shifted to met hers. She tilted her head, wondering where he was leading her to. She was happy he didn’t prope her ‘thing’ with the Soldier anymore.  
  
“He didn’t die,” said Coulson after a beat.  
  
Valerie arched an eyebrow. “Did you expect me to let him die?”  
  
He chuckled, shaking his head. “No. I just. . .” He broke off, eyes burning a hole on her forehead. “You were a HYDRA scientist. You had orders to let him die. Why didn’t you?”  
  
_Well, wasn’t that the million-dollar question._  
  
Valerie, suddenly no longer hungry, set her bowl down and stared at Coulson critically. It was questions like these that stumped her.  
  
Growing up, she never really had the privilege to go out and socialize, unlike her sister, since her overbearing parents worried too much and she wasn’t the most active child either. So she was content to stay put and stare at a book or the TV 24/7. Of course, after acquiring a job (she had no idea how she passed the interview in the first place), Valerie quickly came to the conclusion that at least some socializing earlier on might’ve helped her.  
  
Clients, she hated talking to. Colleagues, she disliked going out with them. Managers, she was nervous in their presence. It got better over time, but even now, she wouldn’t count herself a very enlightening conversationalist. Talking with something in her mind, or with a purpose, she knew how. Caught off guard with philosophical questions, and she was as stupefied as your average 3rd grader.  
  
She found it easier to shut people out. Build walls. Pretended to smile when it felt better to just cry. “Look. It’s been a long week. A hellish week. So I’d prefer if you didn’t throw philosophical questions at me while my innards are literally stitching themselves back together.”  
  
She was surprised to find out her words visibly flustered the great stoic Phil Coulson. He blinked a couple of times, but quickly regained his composure with a brief smile.  
  
“I’m sorry to have intruded your personal space, Doctor. I just needed an accurate timeline, given your ties to HYDRA and potentially nefarious deeds you’d done under their commands,” he said calmly, no trace of the earlier flustered Coulson she saw. “Understanding your frustrations, but I must insist you tell your side of the story.”  
  
_Damn spies._  
  
She gave a tight smile. “Well, I appreciate your concerns. But maybe at a later time. Now, I have a dinner to finish.”  
  
He dipped his head politely, set the picture back on the table, and stood up, chair scraping against the floor tiles. She watched him walk away, when he stopped, head tilted but not all the way towards her.  
  
“If you’d like it, I could tell the chefs to cook a more. . . substantial meal for you. That soup looks indigestible.”  
  
She blinked. _Hadn’t pegged you for a saint, Coulson_. Maybe he wasn’t that bad after all.  
  
“I’d really like it.”  
  
And with a final nod, he turned on his heels and left.

 

* * *

 

 **VALERIE WAS CONFINED TO THE INFIRMARY** for 5 more torturous days, with a more decent soup as Coulson had said (she was grateful for it), until she managed to convince the head nurse to sign her discharge papers. Maria wasn’t pleased, but couldn’t do anything about it since Valerie’s technically healed already. So she was given a keycard to her room (Stark really was generous) and ushered there.  
  
As it turned out, her room number was as complicated as trying to solve the mass of a neutron star, and she wandered around the same floor at least 3 times before a nice red-headed woman found and steered her in the right direction.  
  
She didn’t bother locking the door and bolted straight into the bathroom. There was a bathtub, closet, shower and a sink, all far more expensive than she’d imagined. She made a mental note to thank Stark later, before stripping off her hospital gown and jumping straight into the shower. Cold water cascaded down her skin, and she could feel her back muscles relaxing. It was now she could properly examine herself, see the brutal gifts Vankov left her.  
  
A cut on her right jaw, stinging under the shower. She avoided washing her face just for that reason. Her arms were more or less fine, just bruised with handprints when he’d pinned her down. But the most glaring one of all was the long, jagged cut running from her left hip down to the mid thigh.  
  
_Keep on screaming._  
  
She froze. Ice flooded her veins at the voice of her tormentor.  
  
It was him.  
  
_It was Vankov._  
  
Her legs stumbled and her skin crawled as his words echoed in her ears in a sick loop. She could feel herself going back to the cell, the weight of him pressed on her chest, the rough texture of his hand on her breast, her throat raw from screaming.  
  
She could feel the metal of the gun in her hand, the spray of blood and grey matter across the dirty floor.  
  
_No one will hear you._  
  
Valerie ground her teeth. _Stop. He’s dead. He can’t hurt you anymore._  
  
Suddenly, her vision cleared and the cell faded, the shower floor coming into view. Her knees buckled and she collapsed, barely stopping her face from plummeting to the wet floor with her hands.  
  
Her breathing came in short, forced breaths. Blood roared in her ears, drowning out the sound of the shower head. She forced herself to hold her breath before breathing slowly.  
  
_Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale._  
  
It helped calm her racing heart, but when the adrenaline wore off, the pain from her knees began burning. She cursed, sitting down to examine them. Nothing worse than a couple-of-days bruises, but it hurt to stand up.  
  
She thumped her head on the wall behind her, and cursed again. She allowed her self-pity to kick in, and a choked noise made its way through her throat. So she cried. She cried ugly. Sobs raking her ribs, tears mixing with the water above.  
  
Valerie stayed there until she could feel the shower grow weak, and turned it off before any of the staff could complain about the sudden water outage in her room. She got out, wrapped herself in a surprisingly comfortable towel, and exited the bathroom.  
  
At least she didn’t smell like blood and soot anymore.  
  
Her new clothes were in a neat pile on the foot of the bed. She didn’t know why they weren’t pjs, since it’s pretty dark out when she left the shower. And she had no plans to go out.

She heard sounds of footsteps behind her and turned around sharply. The steps stopped, as her eyes trailed to the sight of a barefooted, casually-clothed, non lethal-looking Soldier standing in the middle of her room.

“Shit!” She stumbled back and could’ve fell onto the bed had she not grip on the bedpost earlier. “Why– What are you doing here?”

Her question obviously hit him in one way or another, since he looked conflicted for a moment: eyes casted downwards, flickering between her and his feet. Then, without replying, he turned around and headed quickly towards the door.

“Wait!” she called, running after him. When her fingers found the fabric of his sleeve and pulled, his head snapped to her in a motion that was oddly fearful. He did stop though, to her relief, but looked even more conflicted than she’d liked.

Valerie cursed again, releasing her grip on his shirt. One look at him and she knew that either he wanted nothing more than to get out of here, or his head demanded questions he knew little answers to. She doubt any of the Tower’s residents bothered seeing him, much less talk to him. Captain Rogers was in a hospital, so the chances of the Soldier ever getting answers from him were slim.

Which left her. A doctor.

She sighed, stepping back to allow him some space.

“You want answers.”

He nodded.

“And I was your only option.”

More nodding.

Valerie rubbed her eyes before dropping her hand. “Can you. . . Alright. Stay here and wait for me. I’ll be back in like 10 minutes.”

When she got his agreement, she quickly ducked back into the bathroom with her clothes in tow, changing as quickly as her bone-tired muscles would allow. When she got out, the towel now wrapped on her head, and saw that he had taken resident on the foot her king sized bed, she sucked in a shaky breath and walked over to him. He didn’t seem surprised when she sat opposite to him, but she’d taken extra efforts to walk slowly in his range of vision, else he’d see her as a threat.      

“What is it?” she asked, still taking in the sight of the odd domesticated look he had on. With his grey T-shirt and worn-out sweatpants, one could mistake him for a normal guy. Albeit the metal arm stood out starkly against the dim lighting of her room. She wondered whose clothes he was wearing.

It was a while before he finally spoke.

“I. . . I don’t– I don’t know why I came to you.”

She blinked. “Didn’t you nod when I asked if you wanted answers?”

His head shot up and he looked strangely apologetic. This was the most emotion she’d seen him express, ever since the first time he stayed in her lab for some peace. “What? No. I– I just. . . I guess it’s instinct. Ingrained in me.” When he hesitated, she nodded, encouraging him to continue. “After a mission, you go back to Base. It was a rule beaten into me. When you came along, and didn’t beat me for staying in the lab, my programming was changed. You became the new Base. The one I’d always return to after or for a new mission, not the war room anymore.”

“Are you saying it was compulsory that you come to me?” she asked.

Shaking his head, he said, “Only half the reasons why. You were the first person to treat me like a human being for the first time in HYDRA history. I wanted to go back to you, as wrong as it was for a weapon to have wants and needs. I was allowed to talk in your lab. Have peace and quiet. Going there almost became second nature.”

Despite herself, she felt a smile began forming on her lips. “I’m flattered you think of me that way. But you’re free now. Free from HYDRA, from Pierce. There’s no one to give you orders and no one that’ll hurt you,” she said, seeing the parallel between his world and hers. “You don’t have to go back to me anymore. To the ‘Base’. It’s an unhealthy mindset to have.”

Again, he shook his head. “I know. I just never understood why you did it.” When he saw her eyebrow arched, he explained: “Treated me like I was human.”

“You are.”

He gave her a look that was oddly exasperating.

She smiled ruefully. “Maybe I recognized a kindred spirit? It was never in my nature to hurt people who didn’t deserve hurting.”

“I killed hundreds over the last several decades,” he said, tilting his head. “I shot you.”

“And so had other HYDRA agents, under the same orders you were. The only difference between them and you is that they had a choice between killing me and doing something far more pleasant. You don’t.”

She knew her answer had hit him deep. The kind that made you stop and contemplate how true it applied to your life. It was a sad thing the Soldier only very recently got his life back. Speaking of which. . .

“You are chatty today, you know that?”

Her question took him by surprise, but he didn’t let it faze him.

“What did they do to you? Made you so open?”

He grimaced, if only briefly, before replying. “Psychological evaluation. There was a man with me. Asked me questions, but I thought it felt more like he was probing my thoughts. Told me his name was Coulson, then said I should tell him my own.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Coulson? He’s a nice guy. Did you tell him?”

Suddenly, his eyes had a wistful, almost sad look to them. “James Buchanan Barnes.”

Valerie had a hunch he was still struggling to say it on his tongue. The thought of someone stumbling over their own name, after knowing it for the first time in 70 years, was a thought she didn’t like to dwell on.

“Strange. I almost got used to calling you _soldat_ now,” she said. “Do you want to keep it?”

_Look at you, Hill. Playing therapist to an emotionally unstable super assassin._

He looked surprised at her question. It never hit her how little freedom he had while under HYDRA. The choice to keep his name was one of the very first he got to make since they got here. It broke her heart to see someone so efficient in the act of killing stumble over the thing we all take for granted. Names gave them all identities. How would the Soldier cope now that the only thing he knew as ‘home’ (as twisted as it was) gone, now left in a confusing world dictated by choices that he never learned how to make?

His sigh was almost inaudible. “Yes. I want to keep it. To be a person for once, instead of a weapon.”

She shuffled closer to him. “Then I guess I should call you Bucky then?”

He blinked, eyes both sad and excited. “I’d like it if you call me James. Bucky sounds very. . .”

“1940s?”

He smiled dryly. “Yeah.” Then, he turned and looked at her expectantly. It took her a moment to understand. 

“Valerie.” He nodded.

She drew back when the distance between them became suffocating. It was still hard to be _that_ close to a man, even when she trusted him. She saved him just as much as he saved her. But the debt had been paid. Why was she still there for him?

“I still want answers, but I won’t get them here. Or from you.” When she looked at him expectantly, he leaned back before speaking. “Those scientists who made me. . . I know some of them are still out there. Working for the remaining HYDRA factions, maybe creating more Soldiers like me. I want answers, and I want. . . revenge.”

_Oh. Going on a HYDRA killing spree isn’t going to help his conscience, she can tell._

“Vengeance isn’t going to help you sleep if you don’t know what, exactly, you’re avenging,” she said, trying to sound as gentle as possible. “We’re both wanting a piece of HYDRA, but now, I think I want to enjoy my life, for a while. Live.”

Silence reigned. When he lifted his head, his eyes were a shade of vulnerability that scared even her. “I can’t.“ His breathing was getting dangerously laboured. “I can’t. . .!” She leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, eyes steady and voice soft.

“Breathe. Just breathe slowly.”

He took in a deep, quiet breath before exhaling slowly. She forgot he was a sniper and had inhmanly quiet breathing. The next minute was just him trying to catch his breath, with Valerie almost coaching him through it. It should’ve been awkward, almost embarrassing to any other person she could be with, but it’s not.

When he calmed down, she continued, “I can show you how to live again.”

He looked at her with those same desperate eyes, the same ones when he’d asked her if he could stay with her for the first time, the ones that showed there was a man beneath it all.

“Why?”

And this time, she didn’t have an answer for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I deleted chapter 11 and will be posting the rewritten version soon. Stay tuned!


	11. only human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time changed people and they were barely the people from before, their sanity on the brink of snapping. He was slowly coming back, something she was proud of because she helped him reinsert control back in his life, a luxury neither of them had back in HYDRA. Now, her nerves was fraying, and she was still wasn’t quite ready to face Maria yet.
> 
> Which left the only other person who earned her trust.
> 
> “JARVIS, which room is Sgt. Barnes’?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies, and here’s the newly rewritten chapter 11. Enjoy!

* * *

_Stark Tower – NYC, May 2014_

 

**“AND AFTER YOU SHOT HIM, WHERE DID YOU GO NEXT?”**

Valerie heaved a sigh that hopefully wasn’t annoyed and said, “I went in the lab, retrieved the serum. When I left, the effects of blood loss got to me and I fainted. And now I’m here.”

Here she was indeed. Just an hour after she and James had the heart-to-heart conversation that ended way more awkward than she intended, some agent to grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side, saying Fury’s going to interrogate her. Then, with no forewarning and no explanation, they cuffed her and dragged her into a small room and forced her to talk.

_At least it explained the non-night-dress clothes on her bed._

The scary black man in the trench coat (Fury, she thought) stared at her so intensely it was as if he’s trying to pull her thoughts from her head. To his credit, it might be working.

“Agent Hill’s reports stated that the Winter Soldier was there with you, something you failed to mention. Might I ask why?”

Valerie froze. Before slowly turning her head towards the glass that pretended not to hide Coulson behind it. She glared at him, and she swore she could see his ghost of a _I-told-you-so_ smile in reply. The man’s cough drew her attention back. He raised an eyebrow before she spoke.

“I was half-conscious, so the details are hazy.” It was a lie. She remembered everything up until her passing out. But his stare told her either they could do this the easy way, or the hard way. She’d prefer the former.

With a sigh, Valerie said, “Back at HYDRA, it was mandatory the Soldier protect high personnels with the expense of his life, if needed. Since I was Head Scientist, it made sense he’d escort me to the jet to safety.”

He didn’t need to know that the Soldier at that time was in the middle of an existential crisis, nor the fact that she practically offered him a way of escaping HYDRA via Maria’s extraction team.

“Hm.” The man looked thoughtful, so her answer probably sufficed his question, to say the least. “As Head Scientist, did Pierce confide confidential informations with you. And will such informations affect the world as we know?”

She leaned back against her chair, cuff chain clinking. “He discussed most plans and missions with his board members and Zola. Some he kept to himself, ‘cause he’s Pierce, and some he discussed with me – should the plans revolved around scientific stuffs. Mostly just the serum and when he can use it. There was a time he asked if I could become the Asset’s new handler, since the last one got killed. Though since the board members were exposed as HYDRA agents and imprisoned, and Zola’s dead, I don’t think the plans are going to go into effect any time soon.”

Something perked his interest and he folded his hands on the table. “Did you accept it? To become the Soldier’s handler?”

She snorted. “Obviously not. I was in touch with Maria at the time, so spending less time in the lab – the only place I could safely text her – would be counterproductive.” Though she had considered it. Take up the offer, order the Soldier to kill everyone in the Base and escape together.

“Hm.” This guy ‘hmed’ a lot, Valerie noted. “And what of the serum? Did Pierce get any? Are the effects on humans different than any previous versions?”

“Well, no and maybe. I set up a fake for Pierce to bite, and I took the only rack that has the serum with me. But its effect is a different story. I used a cocktail of Zola’s, the same on used on _soldat_ , mixed with my own. The enhancements should be familiar, maybe more potent than the others. It is painless, however, when you receive the serum, so maybe there’s that.”

Mr. Scary aka Fury nodded, and went on to ask a few more questions that didn’t involve much about the Soldier. How she got kidnapped, how long she stayed under HYDRA. Why Zola sacrificed himself to kill Zola, which entailed a rather smug version of how she manipulated Zola into turning against Pierce and how Pierce ordered missiles at the scientist. There were more personal questions that poked her in places she didn’t want to be poked. Her parents, her studies, her strained relationship with Maria. What caused them to fall apart. Why she decided to join team Save The World.

It was, in short, physically and mentally exhausting.

“Agent Hill trained you personally in combat?”

Another sigh from her. “Yes. Hand-to-hand combat. Thought I could use some self-defence, given my history with my–” _No. Don’t go there. Don’t mention your ex. Don’t mention your–_ “– ex.” _Blast it, Hill._

His eyebrow arch was even more impressive than Maria’s. “Your ex? Was he abusive?”

Her smile came out colder than she intended. “None of your business.” She leaned back, eyeing him cooly. “Is this related to our topic? Because right now, I thought we were talking about how and why I helped took down HYDRA. Not discussing about my ex. Who he is and what he’d done don’t matter anymore.”

If he was ruffled by her snark, he didn’t show it. “Sorry Dr. Hill. I just have to make sure we’ve considered all the possibilities.”

“Possibilities of what?”

His eyes sharpened. “Of the fact that you may be able to control the Soldier.”

“And how does my ex equate into this?”

His smirk was brief and was the first hint of his personality she’d seen so far. “He was the cause of all this, wasn’t he? Why you agreed to Maria’s trainings. Why you wanted to help Cap. Why you showed mercy and sympathy towards the Winter Soldier.”

She froze, but steadied her nerves before they got the better of her. Leaning forward, she said, “Why I acted like how I acted during HYDRA’s reign is none of your concern. The important part is that I brought you the serum and the Soldier. Isn’t that enough?”

Without any further words, she stood up and held out her cuffed hands towards him. He arched an eyebrow, but sighed and unlocked them nonetheless.

“Thanks,” she said, dipping her head politely before walking away. The guards at the door fanned out as she approached it.

“Doctor Hill, remember just because you saved my life doesn’t mean that you can hide the skeletons in your closets forever!” he called at her. “They’ll come out, and when they do it won’t be pretty.”

The guards opened the door for her. As she got out, she called back, “I’m counting on it.”

And with that, she turned on her heels and left.

Coulson stood on the other side, leaning against a wall while staring at the glass separating him and the interrogation room. He looked amused when he saw her coming.

“You know, few people ever talked to my boss like that and walked away unharmed.” He held out a hand and she shook it. “I’m impressed.”

She grinned. “A compliment from you is just as impressive.”

“Well, I do seldom give them out.” He shrugged, before looking back at the door just as Scary walked in, cloak billowing behind dramatically. “Sir.” Coulson bowed his head respectfully. She figured to do the same.

“Agent.” The man nodded, before turning to her. “Doc.”

_Well, at least she got a greeting._

They watched as he strolled off outside the observatory, the door closing behind him.

“Sorry about that,” Coulson began. “Fury gets a little. . . paranoid about doctors with HYDRA ties, especially after the incident with Dr. List.”

“List? What about him?”

He shrugged again. “Tried to poison him. Ended up in prison.”

She shook her head. “Typical. I didn’t poison him, for the record, when he almost bled out in the OR.”

Coulson looked up. “You did stop his heart though.”

“ _Temporarily._ ”

He chuckled quietly. “It was smart, actually. Fury knew he had to stay alive. Didn’t have time to improvise, though. Then you came in and set things back in place. Saved him.” He turned around. “What was it that you used?”

“Tetrodotoxin B.” She rubbed her wrist, where the cuffs dug into her skin. “Slows the heart to one beat a minute. Banner made it, thought it could contain the Hulk. Didn’t work out for him, but I found some use of it.”

Coulson nodded slowly. “Smart. You know, you’d make a good supervillain.” She turned around slowly, about to ask ‘what’ when he said, “Doctor Hill the Chemist of Death.”

She snorted. “Sounds like a start of a terrible comedy show.”

“Or an awesome dramedy.”

_And just when she was starting to like him._

Valerie smiled. “Get back to work agent. We can discuss the potential of my supervillainy in a later time.”

He saluted her and left. She watched as agents followed him, and soon, she was the only one left in the room. With a sigh, she turned and exited the room, too. Fury’s interrogation took longer than she thought, it was nearly midnight when she got out. God knew how late her internal clock was and she had no intention in finding out. So one final glance back at the empty room, and with a scrape of boots, she left to return to her room.

 

* * *

 

**SHE DIDN’T KNOW WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME SHE SLEPT.**

Properly. With a blanket, clear head and not staring at the ceiling.

Which was exactly what she was doing right now. She couldn’t pinpoint why she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. The bed was the softest thing she’d ever lay on and the blanket was heavenly. Maybe it was her head, all cramped up and overthinking, but it _wasn’t_.

For some reasons unknown to her, she couldn’t fall asleep. She tried closing her eyes, to think of the most boring things she could, to fake sleep. She tried again and again. But _nothing_ was working.

Feeling both exhausted and frustrated, Valerie sat up right and hopped out of bed. Her pjs were way shorter than she’d like and the cold air was already biting into her skin. Shivering, she slowly walked towards the door. Her eyes had already adjusted to low light, so she could see her room quite clearly, but the feeling that no one was here with her was starting to creep her out.

She slipped out of the room as quietly as she could, toes barely touching the floor as she walked down the hallway, completely alone. Though, she could use some company.

“JARVIS? Are you awake?”

“Yes Dr. Hill. I’m always alert.”

She startled, but managed not to jump. JARVIS was still a foreign entity that she’s still getting used to. But Valerie had adapted to a lot of things. This AI shouldn’t be any different.

“Is there anyone up at this hour?” She didn’t think the Avengers would all be night owls, but surely there’d be some insomniac wandering around, right?

JARVIS answered after a beat. “Mr. Barton is meditating in his room. Mr. Stark is in his workshop, as per usual.” A pause, as if he was scanning the Tower. She supposed it was something he could do. “Sgt. Barnes is awake. I believe he might be in some form of distress.”

She blinked. Well, she hadn’t expected Barton, but the rest was predictable. Most especially James. Being a HYDRA weapon beaten to perfection was going to take a toll on him. She couldn’t sleep because the same organization kept her for a year. He was with them for _decades._

She began thinking of going to him when suddenly, she had a moment of self doubt. Why was she worried for him?

Why was she always on the lookout for him? _Why was she doing this for him?_

Valerie had never been, nor acted, this selfless in her life. She was never altruistic, it wasn’t in her nature. She treated people nice if they treated her nice. A price for a prize. It was how she worked, it was why she shot Vankov. Because he treated her like shit. It was why she dumped Cole, because he was an ass and drank too much.

But then why was she doing this for James? Maybe it was because he saved her, even though he was unstable and injured, he still carried her through a collapsing building to reach their rendezvous point. Maybe it was because he was her only acquaintance back at the Base. Her only friend. Of course, there was still Maria, but there were rifts they needed to fix. With James, having been through the same thing and saving each other a couple of times, it was natural to say he was the only other person she trusted.

Coulson was merely business to her, maybe friends one day. Fury even less so. And she hadn’t talked to any of the Avengers despite living in their Headquarters.

Heck, she was on first name basis with James, and the only other person with that privilege was Maria. She remembered how at ease he was when he’s with her. He was open, happy, genuine and even at times _vulnerable_ , and she was there to witness it all. She guessed Captain Rogers had been the other person James’ expressed these emotions with, even more so than with her. But that was before he fell, before HYDRA, the Avengers, before _everything._

Time changed people and they were barely the people from before, their sanity on the brink of snapping. He was slowly coming back, something she was proud of because she _helped_ him reinsert control back in his life, a luxury neither of them had back in HYDRA. Now, her nerves was fraying, and she was still wasn’t quite ready to face Maria yet.

Which left the only other person who earned her trust.

“JARVIS, which room is Sgt. Barnes’?”

“Room 17, 19th floor.”

“Thanks.” And she was off, moving faster than she’d ever imagined. But James was in distress while she had a moment of self-acceptance so she needed to move fast. As the flight of stairs came to an end, she bolted down the hallway, before stopping in front of his room.

“Would you like me to open the door?” JARVIS ever so patiently asked. She nodded fervently, slipping inside as soon as the doors opened. Making a mental note to thank the AI later for his attentive service, Valerie searched the middle of the room and found James sitting on the foot of his bed, eyes hollow and hair messy.

“Val?” His voice was rough and hoarse, but she was more focused on the fact that he just said her name in a way that was far more sexy to be real. Then she realized she shouldn’t have those thoughts about him, especially when he’s “in distress” as quoted from JARVIS and it’s this late in the night, and mentally slapped herself. Never had Valerie been more thankful that he couldn’t see her blush in the dark room.

‘Yeah um,” she began, suddenly regretting of not thinking of a better explanation. _Yeah, I can’t sleep and neither can you, so can I stay the night?_ Instead, what came out of her mouth was, “Bad dream?”

He shook his head, staring at his hands. The metal one gleamed despite the lack of light. “Worse.”

“Tell me about it.”

A chuckle came out of his mouth, but something told her he found no amusement in the situation. “Doctors and lab coats, taking notes and strapping me to a table. Gunshots. Some ballerinas dancing and dirt road. Then there was blood that I was waist deep in. It was a mess.”

She came closer. “Traumatic memories you’d gathered over the years can merge into one another. Layers over layers. They get so complicated you won’t even know what the truth is anymore.”

He swallowed hard. “It was so real. The pain. The dream. I was so lost, when I woke up it was like taking your first breath. Do you know what it felt like? Like you’d drown even if there’s no water.”

There was a lump in her throat, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. He looked so. . . defeated. So tired. Like he already gave up fighting and surrendered to whatever was haunting him. Taking the last step towards him, she quietly sat on the mattress.

“Yes.” Tears pricked the corner of her eyes, and she had to blink several times to hide them. “I know exactly what it feels like.”

He turned and looked at her. “The doctors I had in my life had turned me into this. . . this weapon.” He looked at his metal arm with disgust and regret. “I don’t know what to do with that. How to live with that.”

“Neither do I. There are many blood on our hands, none of them our own.” She placed a hand on his metal one, and he startled at the contact. She thought he was about to move away when his fingers curled around hers, smooth and cool to the touch. “You know I’d never hurt you right?”

“Yeah. . . It’s just– I thought it was all over. That I’d get answers once I get here. But so far–” He shrugged in a way that was awfully miserable. “– no luck.”

She shifted ever so closer. “I’m still taking all this in.” She gestured at his room, and the bright city outside. “The fact that HYDRA’s gone and we’re safe. But scars don’t heal overnight and neither do PTSD. The best we can do is brace ourselves and push forward.”

He shuffled back on the bed, taking her hand with him so she had to follow him. Soon, they were lying on the soft mattress. James removed his hand from hers, and she had to push down a thread of disappointment. _Get yourself together, Hill._

“You know, I realized I never thanked you.” He spoke after a beat. “For what you did.”

She remained quiet for a moment and searched her memory. Then, she frowned. “That’s not true. You thanked me once, when I cleared you before you were sent after Fury.”

He looked confused. “I don’t remember.”

Her eyes widened. _Oh, shit._ She wanted to smack herself so badly. He must’ve been wiped after that, they always wipe him after a mission. Of course he wouldn’t remember what they’d been through together, all the times he visited her lab. The thought of it sent a rush of melancholy down her spine, but she pushed it away as well. If he didn’t remember her, surely he wouldn’t be this open and honest as he was right now. There was at least some sense of familiarity left.

“It’s fine,” she reassured him. “You can re-thank me.”

She was pretty sure there was his ghost of a smile, hidden in darkness, and she suddenly remembered how she thought his smile was nice. _God._ That must’ve been like a year ago. A testament to how far they’ve come.

“Thanks.”

She gave him a smile of her own, and silence fell between them. After a few minutes, his breathing slowed and his eyelids closed. She crawled closer, partly because he was warm and his apartment was a degree of cold she couldn’t handle, partly because she’d never seen him sleep before. He looked younger when he slept. His face softened, his mouth half-open, and some of his demons seemed to melt away. She reached to tuck a strand of hair away from his forehead, before realizing that he was softly snoring.

She snorted. It was something to watch the Winter Soldier snore like any normal human. Which, she thought, was what he was. A human, like the rest of them. Like her.

The sun’s first rays started to creep through the windows as her eyelids grew heavy. Having not slept since she got here, it was going to take a toll on her. She felt her head hit something firm and promptly fell asleep right after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is both meta and full of references. Kudos if you can spot them (if they’re easy to spot then I’m sorry. I’m terrible at hiding things.)


	12. quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “James. It’s breakfast. Not HYDRA, not the Third World War. _Breakfast_. Come, I’ll make you the best cereal you ever had.”
> 
> “That’s just pouring milk on some corn flakes.”
> 
> Her eye roll was extravagant. “Haha, ever the charmer you.”

* * *

_Stark Tower – NYC, May 2014_

 

**JAMES WOKE UP WITH A HEAVY FEELING ON HIS CHEST.**

Literally. There was something warm and soft on him. He pried his eyes opened, and the first thing he saw was Valerie draped across his chest, peacefully asleep. She was breathing quietly, like a cat, her hair splayed across his rumpled shirt. He found it very unfamiliar to see her so content, her face relaxed and her breathing slow and even.

It was seldom he saw her without blood and dirt on her, without the hardened look she wore so often that he forgot there was a softer person under all that. She looked younger now, at ease. The scar on her jaw stood out more against her pale skin. He felt small whiffs of air against his face, and just now realized how close they were, nose almost touching. He wasn’t sure if she fell asleep like this intentionally or not, but the fact that if he leaned any closer their lips would touch made it impossible for him to think.

Then, she groaned, and all his thoughts disappeared. He couldn’t move, so was helpless to watch as she got up and opened her eyes. He saw the exact moment she remembered he was here, as her shoulders tightened up and she rolled over, the warmth of hers leaving his. The cold of his room seeped in and he almost protested.

“Slept well?” Valerie turned to look at him, face unreadable. Though he was fairly certain she was trying to repress whatever expression from surfacing.

“No nightmares,” he replied, legs swinging over the side of the bed. She nodded, before walking towards the bathroom.

He didn’t know first thing about waking up with a woman. Other than vague flashes from the past, but it was still far too intimate for his liking. The Soldier would’ve never let his guard down like this, sleeping and resting instead of always being alert.

James didn’t know when he started to identify himself separately from the _soldat_.

“Can I use your toothbrush?” She called from the bathroom, cutting his thoughts off. _Toothbrush?_ He didn’t even know he had bathroomware. Or where they came from. Apparently free personal hygiene equipments were mandatory around here. Should he do something to repay?

He shook his head. Wandering thoughts were not his forté. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Seconds later, he heard water sloshing and the sound of bristles against teeth. The sounds of that, along with the quiet air and tranquility he rarely saw sent a very dormant part of his mind running, like watching old tape of an old life. The simple life. Wake up, brush your teeth, go downstairs and eat breakfast. Go to work, make friends, end the day with lying in bed with your sweetheart.

It was such a foreign image to him that sent a stab of panic right in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with such thoughts. He had no idea, _period._ He was a weapon for so long, a killer who knew only to obey and execute orders. And now the killer was lost and without purpose, leaving a shell of a man behind, wondering what’s left for him on this world. The woman in his bathroom had promised to help him rehabilitate, reintegrate himself back in society, but he knew even she was struggling with such a momentous idea. And who to say that society would accept them? The people they’d become.

The people they’d killed.

“You look serious,” Valerie commented as she stepped into the room, towel wrapped around her head and the scent of flowers wafting through the air. Apparently she’d also showered while he drowned in his mind.

He looked back to his hands, the flesh and metal ones. Part man, part soldier. What was he, really?

He felt the mattress dip, the flowery smell getting stronger, and when he turned, sure enough she was there, sitting next to him.

She spoke after a beat, “I’m going to get breakfast. It’s been ages since I had a decent meal.” She looked to him. “Wanna come?”

He turned around. Topics of existential crisis aside, he was surprised at her willingness to socialize today. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to go out. Agent Coulson specifically said so.”

She gave a very ladylike snort. “Hah. Coulson. He likes to joke around.” Standing up, she offered him a hand. “C’mon _soldat_ , surely you must be starving by now.”

He looked at her skeptically. She rolled her eyes in a way that was very _her._

“James. It’s breakfast. Not HYDRA, not the Third World War. _Breakfast._ Come, I’ll make you the best cereal you ever had.”

“That’s just pouring milk on some corn flakes.”

Her eye roll was extravagant. “Haha, ever the charmer you.” Then she turned serious. “Hurry now. Stay or go?”

He debated internally for a moment. He never really liked going out, partly because half the Tower’s resident was terrified of him, and nobody wanted to see him anyways. But breakfast was good. He, like her, hadn’t eaten anything proper aside from MREs and protein bars. Subconsciously, he was craving some eggs, or milk. Cereal was fine, too. Besides, he had no plans for today.

With a sigh, he reached out and took her hand. She pulled him to his feet, a smile gracing her lips. Without meaning to, he started smiling himself. Perhaps she was one of the reasons why he wanted to go. Perhaps they could escape the shadows of their past and find their place amongst the people here, as impossible as it may seem.

 

* * *

 

**THE KITCHEN WAS EMPTY WHEN THEY ARRIVED.**

Valerie immediately took charge, heading for the fridge and taking out a carton of eggs. She hunted for a nonstick pan, since those were the best, and turned on the stove. Behind her, James sank into a chair, watching her with detached interest.

“I thought you were making cereal,” he said.

“Yep. This–” She gestured at the eggs. “–is for me.”

She could tell he was rolling his eyes behind her, and forced a smirk down. She was cracking the eggs when Stark strolled in, a cup of coffee on his hand.

“What the hell?” he asked, sounding far more amused than surprised. She waited for the eggs to sizzle before flipping.

“Eggs,” she supplied. “I’m making breakfast.”

He arched an eyebrow, taking a seat away from James.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” This time, she wasn’t sure who spoke. She poured the eggs onto a plate, turned off the stove and took it to the table.

“I can do a lot of things.” She headed for the fridge and took a bottle of milk. “Including making basic meals.”

“Hey, no one gets to sass me. Only I can sass myself,” Stark replied.

She turned around. “Where’s the cereal?”

He looked even more amused. “Top cupboard. Careful, Barton’s very protective of his Fruit Loops.”

She reached for the shelves. The thought of Hawkeye having a cereal-obsession made her feel odd inside. Taking the cereal box, she poured it into a bowl and then added milk.

“Eh, he’ll get over it.” After another trip to return things back to the fridge, she took both her and James’ breakfast back to the table and sank on the seat opposite to him. Stark arched an eyebrow as she slid the cereal over to James.

He looked to her. “Where’s the knife and fork?”

She dug into her eggs. “Good to know HYDRA’s best assassin hasn’t lost his table etiquette yet.” She took the first bite, savoring the soft pillowy texture of the eggs, before glancing at him. “I trust you can get them youself.”

He rolled his eyes, standing up and almost prowled over to where he saw her took the forks from. He came back with the most ridiculously extravagant fork and knife she ever saw, sinking on his seat and began digging in. She hummed, almost half way through her breakfast when she saw Stark glance between her and James. Twice. With conspicuously squinted eyes.

She had a feeling he was going to say something she didn’t like. She was slicing into the eggs when Stark opened his mouth.

 _Oh dear._ She mentally braced herself as he spoke. “Say–” He gestured between her and James. “You two are a thing, right?”

She froze, glancing at James. He looked normal to a human eye, but she knew he was seconds away from ripping Tony Stark apart. With his pinkie. Stark, however, was completely oblivious to the murder stare.

“ _Tony._ ” A redhead breezed into the kitchen, sounding exasperated. Said man put up his hands defensively. “I was just asking.”

“Poking nerves isn’t asking,” she said in a tone that reminded Valerie of her mother. “And frankly–” She looked at her watch. “–you’re very late to a very important meeting.”

“Put it in my calendar.”

“It’s on your calendar. It’s on your calendar for 4 times already. I expect you to be there in an hour, minimum.”

He sighed theatrically. “I’m not even the CEO of Stark Industries anymore, Pep. It’s why I assigned you. It’s why I chose you.” He gestured at the redhead. Based on his expression, Valerie guessed he thought he was being romantic. “So you could handle these sort of things.”

Redhead gave a fond/annoyed look at Stark. “But you’re the face of my company. And the biggest shareholder. The board members want confirmation–”

“But–” He almost whined.

“No buts,” she said firmly. “You. Meeting. _Now._ ”

And she walked away, heels clicking in her wake. Valerie turned back to James, still in awe of witnessing a woman put down Tony-fucking-Stark in the most awesome lover squabble ever seen. James, however, was more or less blank-faced, eating his cereal calmly. Guessed being a sniper included turning off all expressions.

“Who was that?” She turned to Stark. He poked at his cup in defeat.

“Pepper Potts.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Valerie could see James’ eyebrow go up. She swore he was fighting to keep his neutral expression from turning into one of amusement, sniper facade crumbling.

“Are you two a thing?”

She stared at him. Even he looked surprised at the tease. Stark, ever the man, waved his hand as dismissively as possible. “Eh. You could say so.”

Valerie shook her head. “You got serious issues, Stark.”

He nodded solemnly. “It’s a burden I bear.”

The rest of their breakfast continued in silence. Stark received a phone call from, she could only assume, was a board member. They conversed in Italian, so Valerie had no idea what the hell they were talking about, but judging from Stark’s facial expressions it wasn’t going to end well for the caller. James was unusually quiet, and _that’s_ saying something. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, searching for body language, but he was impossible to read.

She finished her eggs just as Stark left, swearing rather colorfully. A moment’s later, Barton poked his head in, glaring at the open box of cereal. He was about to open his mouth to, she presume, call out whoever ate his Fruit Loops, when James arched his eyebrow in what she could only describe as a murder stare. Let’s just say the archer left with his wits hopefully intact. None of the other Avengers showed up, but it didn’t bother her too much. Moments of quiet weren’t seldom to come by, but when they do she tried not to take them for granted.

When James finished his breakfast, she was about to take his bowl for washing when he stopped her with his hand.

“Let me help,” he said. She blinked. The softness and sincerity in his voice surprising even her. But it was the warmth from his skin that made it impossible for her to make coherent thoughts. Nevertheless, she managed to wash the dishes with him and maintain her composure simultaneously.

She glanced at him, watch him rinse the ceramics with surprising care and caution. She didn’t know how much force he could exert using his metal arm, rumors said he ripped out car doors and stopped Captain America’s vibranium shield, so she was fairly sure even a little pressure from the arm could crush the plates he’s holding. Which made it even more remarkable.

“I never knew you can wash the dishes,” she said after a moment, drying her hand with a towel. He made a little motion with his hand and she tossed the towel over to him. “Or that you can tease. I think you got Stark speechless for like 2 seconds there.”

He snorted, drying his hand and hanging the towel on a hook. Then, his eyes softened into one of those looks she so rarely saw. “Well–” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “–it’s getting easier to breathe.”

 _It is, Jamie._ Valerie gave him one last look, taking in the serenity he exuded, the calm she never knew he had. It was seldom they get a moment like this, peaceful and quiet. Her lab had been close, but with HYDRA agents all around them it hardly felt safe. Here, they were. Surrounded with people they, hopefully, could be acquaintances with. One day, who knows, maybe even as friends.

Valerie sighed. She could stay like this for the rest of her life, she decided.


	13. IMPORTANT AUTHOR’S NOTE

I haven’t update this in a long time and I’m sorry. I just had a writer’s block because I absolutely had no idea where this fanfic was going, so I’ve decided to stop writing Rehab. Sorry, but I don’t see how the plot can continue in a way that satisfy me and you guys, so I’ll just leave it off like that. Instead, I’ve written a new Bucky fanfic that will be replacing this. And no, I’m not taking Rehab down. It’s here if you want to revisit it.

**TL;DR: NO MORE REHAB CHAPTERS COMING OUT. NEW BOOK REPLACING IT CALLED ‘ _THE NAME OF WINTER_ ’**


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